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"K k 7 4" 1 










M. V. G. H. 





T T is with a reverent hand that these " hidden 
leaves " of my dear sister's life are now 
laid at the Master's feet, for His acceptance and 

"Leaves which grave Experience ponders, 

Soundings for her pilot- charts ; 
Leaves which God Himself is storing, 
Records which we read, adoring 
Him, who writes on human hearts. 

Leaflets long unpaged and scattered 

Time's great library receives; 
When eternity shall bind them, 
Golden volumes we shall find them, 

God's light falling on the leaves." 

No attempt has been made to write a Bio- 
graphy, but rather to allow her to relate her 
own life-story a sister's loving touch uniting 
the several links. Her letters, so kindly lent to 



me by many friends, have furnished abundant 
materials for this purpose. 

These pages will reveal, to some extent, her 
"true-hearted, whole-hearted" loyalty in the 
service of God. Often was it as unseen as the 
lonely watchfulness of the sentinel on some 
distant outpost ; although in later years she 
seemed as one pacing the ramparts in the very 
presence of the King. And so 

"The joy of loyal service to the King 

Shone through her days, and lit up other lives 
With the new fire of faith, that ever strives, 
Like a swift-kindling beacon, far to fling 
The tidings of His victory, and claim 
New subjects for His realm, new honour for His 

May Christ be magnified by this record of her 
life and death ! To her, Christ was indeed " all 
and in all " ; and she did but describe her own 
experience in the words : 

"There were strange soul depths, restless, vast, and 

Unfathbmed as the sea; 


An infinite craving for some infinite stilling : 
But now Thy perfect love is perfect filling, 
Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God, 
Thou, Thou art enough for me ! " 

Yes, she was satisfied with Him, and knew 
what it was to "rest in the Lord," whilst she 
worked for Him. May I not add that an equally 
joyous and blessed experience may be ours ; and 
that His grace, which was sufficient for her, is 
sufficient for all who, possessing "like precious 
faith," "follow His steps." 


April, 1880. 


Preface v 


Introduction Birth Brothers and sisters Name Birth- 
day wreaths Astley Rectory (illustration) Her father's 
music New home at Henwick Flora's epitaph 
Reading under the table First rhyme .... I 



Autobiography from six years old Wanting to be happy 
Sunday chapters and prayer Golden light Waving 
boughs " The caged lark " No hypocrisy Mother's 
last words Death No trance The cry of the 
motherless Wales Oakhampton . . . 1 1 



The new decade Meteor flashes " Oh for faith " School 
at last Showers, but no blessing - Breaking the ice 
The climax The school sunbeam A gleam of hope 

Trusting Jesus School again Illness and patience 

Wales Singing and responding at " Taffy services " 26 



School at Diisseldorf Journey to Westphalia Leaving 
school Numero I. Autobiography resumed Life 
in the pastor's family The Countess von Lippe 
Letter from Pastor Schulze-Berge The day of con- 
firmation In Worcester cathedral " Thine for ever *' 



Home life Oakhampton enjoyment "Welcome 
home to my father " . . . . 43 



Ireland F. R. H. and the Irish girls Hebrew studies 
Grateful memory of Bible class teachings "Nearer 
heaven ! " Chapters learnt "Touching the hem " 
Leaving St. Nicholas' The loving teacher Last page 
in Sunday Scholar's Register Welcome to Shareshill . 59 


Oakhampton A new power Musical gifts Deep borings 

Subjects for prayer Killer's commendation Re- 
markable power of harmonizing Welcome to Win- 
terdyne Stormy petrelism Sent empty away 
Calmer waters Joining Young Women's Christian 
Association London " Guess my birthday treat ! " 

Signer Randegger Epitome of his first singing 
lesson New home at Leamington How poems 
came My Evelyn ! "The Two Rings" Weary 

and sad First sight of Alpine mountains . . 71 



A father's holy teachings Peaceful death "Yet speak- 
eth " " Songs of Grace and Glory" How harmony 
was learnt Letter on tunes in " Havergal's Psalmody " 

The " hush of praise " Sympathy The great 
transition The most enjoyable trip to Switzerland A 
real Alpine dawn The Vaudois chaplain Vivas on 
the Col de la Selgne Christmas Day Waiting, not 
working 99 



"The Right Way" Snowdon Evenings at Harlech 
Jesus our Reality Switzerland once more Ascent to 
the Grands Mulcts Glissade peril and escape Active 



service Winterdyne Bright sunshine Full sur- 
render I John i. 7 Definitive standpoint Chimes 
in the night of " Ever, only, all for Thee " No cheque 

Songs, not sighs How "Golden harps," "Tell it 
out," etc., came Wayside enjoyments . . .116 


Circular letters Sunset on the Faulhorn Ormont Dessus 

Interruptions to poems Other work done " Little 
Pillows," etc. Swiss singing That great transfer 
A musical reverie Return to England Bright work 

and results 142 



A dark enigma Typhoid fever " Waiting at the golden 
gates " Coming back from them Winterdyne 
Relapse Oakhampton The ministry of kind servants 

Return to work Letters Gleams Whitby 
"Reality" The old friend's letter Kindness of friends 155 



" The Turned Lesson" Patient work Sympathy with 
E. C, going to India Upton Bishop Vicarage 
The brother's organ and last singing The last visit 
to Switzerland " Settlement pour Toi" Bible reading 
to peasants The Great St. Bernard Champery 
Baroness Helga von Cramm Alpine cards Illness 
at Pension Wengen Return home "My King" 

Pruning iSg 


Letters The mystery of pain The Lord's graving tool 

Loyal letters "Won't you decide to-night?" 
Manhood for Christ's service Splendid promises 
" My silver and my gold " Mildmay : its intercessions, 
greetings, hushing power A crumb from the King's 
table The Christian Progress Union .... 226 



(1878.) PAGE 

Sympathy with sorrowful suffering "Just as Thou wilt" 

The mother's last smile Called to rest The 
home nest stirred up Clear guidance " Another 
little step " Last days in Leamington Nieces and 
nephews Devonshire visits The Welsh nest " My 
study " The harp-piano More work The sweep 
of Jehovah's pencil Bible readings ** Take my love" 

Songs in a weary Christmas night .... 250 



New Year's sunshine Journal of mercies (Facsimiles of 
Bible pages'] Prayer and intercessions Work, "if the 
Lord will " London The law of the Lord a delight 

Prospering "Loving all Along" "Bruey" suc- 
cess Irish plans Temperance work The oldest 
friend's visit "Can I go to India?" Last Y. W. 
C. A. address " Little Nony " Last letters Costly 
stones The last " Sunday crumb " card . . . 273 



The donkey-boy My Temperance regiment Work on the 
village bank Sailor friends Helga's pictures 
" God's will delicious " Good Mary and kind nurse 
" How good and kind to come " The last Sunday 
The last hymns Last messages "Do speak bright 
words for Jesus " The last song at the Golden Gate 
With the King Astley Churchyard .... 295 

APPENDIX . .315 

PORTRAIT to face title. 






Introduction Birth Brothers and sisters Name Birthday 
wreaths Astley Rectory (illustration) Her father's music 
New home at Henwick Flora's epitaph Reading under 
the table First rhyme. 

WE do not often see the risings of our rivers, 
the tiny spring lies hidden in some 
mountain home. Even when the stream gathers 
strength in its downward course, it meets with 
many an obstructing boulder, passes through 
many an unfrequented valley, and traverses here 
and there a sunless ravine. But the river deepens 
and widens, and is most known, most navigable, 
just as it passes away for ever from our gaze, 
lost in the ocean depths. 

And thus it was with the early life of that dear 
sister whose course I would now attempt to trace. 
Those who only knew her when her words were 
flowing deeply and widely, around, little guess the 



dark shadows on her early course. It is most 
difficult to know what to give, and what to with- 
hold, in these pages. In simple dependence on 
God's overruling guidance, a selection is now made 
from what she little thought would ever be pub- 
lished. Remembering one of her latest whispers, 
" I did so want to glorify Him in every step of 
my way," it is thought right to unfold these life- 
records. May her desire be fulfilled ! 

" Come nearer, Sun of Righteousness, that we, 
Whose dim, short hours of day so swiftly run, 

So overflowed with love and light may be, 
So lost in glory of the nearing Sun, 

That not our light, but T/tine, the world may see, 
New praise to Thee through our poor lives be won ! " 

I4th of December, 1836, and was the youngest 
child of William Henry Havergal and Jane his 
wife. Her father was then Rector of Astley, 
Worcestershire. The names of her brothers and 
sisters, in the order of their birth, were : 

1. Jane Miriam, who married Henry Crane, Esq., 
of Oakhampton, near Stourport. 

2. Henry East, vicar of Cople, Bedfordshire, who 
died 1875. Married Frances Mary, daughter of 
George J. A. Walker, Esq., Norton, near Worcester. 

3. Maria Vernon Graham. 


4. Ellen Prestage, who married Giles Shaw, Esq., 
of Celbridge Lodge, county Kildare, now of 
Winterdyne, Bewdley. 

5. Francis Tebbs, vicar of Upton Bishop, near 
Ross. Married Isabel Susan, daughter of Colonel 
W. Martin. 

On the 25th of January, 1837, Frances was 
baptized in Astley Church by the Rev. John 
Cawood, incumbent of St. Ann's, Bewdley. Her 
godmothers were Miss Lucy Emra, of St. George's 
Vicarage, near Bristol, authoress of " Lawrence the 
Martyr," " Heavenly Themes," and other poems ; 
and Miss Elizabeth Cawood, whose clever and 
attractive brightness had ever great influence over 
her little goddaughter. Her godfather was the 
Rev. W. H. Ridley, Rector of Hambleden. 

In the " Ministry of Song " we read how Frances 
loved her name of Ridley, and that she bore it 
from one descended from the godly and learned 
Bishop Ridley, of the noble army of martyrs. 

"But 'what the R. doth represent* 

I value and revere, 
A diamond clasp it seems to be, 
On golden chains, enlinking me 
In loyal love to England's hope, 

The Church I hold so dear." 

"Our sweet baby," her father wrote, "grows 


nicely. She was baptized last Wednesday, ' Fran- 
ces Ridley.' All are eager for her to be called 
Fanny, but I do not like it." However, as a 
child we called her Fanny, but from the time of 
the publication of her first book, "The Ministry 
of Song," Frances was her usual signature, and 
she much preferred her baptismal name. Her 
unique surname was spelt Heavergill in 1694, 
afterwards Havergill, or Havergall, but always 
Havergal since orthography in general ceased to 
vary. The derivation of the name is thought to 
be "Heaver-gill, the heaving or rising of the brook 
or gill." 

My sister Miriam supplies the next link. 

" My recollection of Frances begins with the first 
day of her life ; a pretty little babe even then, and by 
the time she reached two years of age, with her fair 
complexion, light curling hair, and bright expression, a 
prettier child was seldom seen. At that age she 
spoke with perfect distinctness, and with greater fluency 
and variety of language than is usual in so young a 
child. She comprehended and enjoyed any little stories 
that were told her. I remember her animated look of 
attention when the Rev. J. East told her about a little 
Mary who loved the Lord Jesus. We were all taught 
to read early, and to repeat, by our dear mother ; but as 
I had now left school I undertook this charming little 
pupil : teaching her reading, spelling, and a rhyme 
(generally one of Jane Taylor's), for half an hour every 


morning, and in the afternoon twenty or thirty stitches 
of patchwork, with a very short text to repeat next 
morning at breakfast. When three years old, she could 
read easy books, and her brother Frank remembers how 
often she was found hiding under a table with some 
engrossing story/' 

The Rev. F. JefTery, afterwards Vicar of Sway, 
was at this time our father's curate at Astley. 
The following is an extract from his letter, 
September 2Qth, 1879. 

" I well recollect Astley Rectory more than forty years 
ago. At that time your sister Frances was rather 
more than two years old, a very fairy-like creature. 
Her chief companion was then a white and tan spaniel, 
such as Landseer might have loved, and this little 
favourite she called Flora or Flo. At morning prayers 
she always sat on her father's knee while he read the 
Scriptures. It is likely that she learned to read as a 
mere pastime. I well remember her sweet infant voice 
singing little hymns in imitation of her father. Her 
nursemaid was recommended by Miss Cawood, from 
the Bewdley Sunday School. The day she was four 
years old her little maid brought her down after dinner 
to dessert, crowned with a wreath of bay-leaves. I shall 
never forget the picture ! She was her dear mother in 
miniature, especially in the brightness of her expression 
and the sparkle of her eye. A line from a classic 
poet was quoted exactly expressing this. I mention 
this as well remembering the great beauty of your 
dear mother. . . . To-day it is exactly fourteen 


years since I saw the sun for the last time, but it would 
need many more years than that, to blot out my recol- 
lection of Astley Rectory. 

" Ah ! how each dear domestic scene I knew 

Charms with the magic of a moonlight view, 
Its colours mellowed not impaired by time ! " 

Her sister Miriam continues : 

" At four years old, Frances could read the Bible and 
any ordinary book correctly, and had learned to write 
in round hand. French and music were gradually 
added ; but great care was always taken not to tire her 
or excite the precocity of her mind, and she never had a 
regular governess. 

11 Mr. Jeffery has referred to her wreath of bay on 
her fourth birthday, and I remember making a wreath of 
the pink china roses which grew among the ivy on the 
rectory on her third birthday. Alas ! the rose and the 
prophetic bay reappeared among her funeral wreaths." 

The surroundings of dear Frances' early days in 
our Astley home may as well be given in the de- 
scriptive lines of my sister Miriam, written in 1863, 
accompanying her sketch of the church and 

" Behold thy birthplace, Frances ! The old house 
Entwined with ivy, roses, and the vine ; 
Beneath the shadow of the ancient shrine 
Where ministered our father twenty years. 


He built the northern aisle, and gave the clock, 
A musical memento of his love 
For time and tune and punctuality ! 
Fair is the garden ground, and there the flowers 
Were trained with care and skill by one who now 
Rests from her labours in the heavenly land. 
Here life and death together meet ; the tombs 
Stand close beside the mossy bank, where once 
Sisters and brothers met in frolic play. 
Around, the wooded hills in beauty rise ! 
Earth has not many scenes more fair than this, 
And none more dear to those who called it Home ! " 

Our Sunday evening hymn-singing is vividly 
recalled, in which little Fanny soon took part. 
At this time our dear father was an invalid ; music 
was his solace, and he composed cathedral services, 
also many hundreds of chants and tunes, and 
several sacred songs, the profits of which were 
always devoted to various Societies, home and 
foreign, and the restoration of churches.* 

Beside the rich chords and tuneful song in 
our home, there were wise and holy influences. 

* My father's first published musical composition was a 
setting of Bishop Heber's hymn, "From Greenland's icy 
mountains." The proceeds amounted to ,180, and were 
devoted to the Church Missionary Society. In 1836 the 
Gresham prize medal was awarded to him for a cathedral 
service in A. In 1841 a second gold medal was adjudged 
for his anthem, " Give Thanks," 


Our parents' prayers and example in searching 
the Scriptures, and their loving cheery ways, 
activity and punctuality, were the keynotes of 
our child-life. 

One of our mother's letters is given, written 
when Fanny was away on her first visit (1840). 

I AM so glad to hear how happy you are at Wycombe. 
Try and be very obedient to dear grandmamma and your 
sister Ellen, and I hope you will do all you can to please 
dear grandpapa. I miss you very much, and often think 
I hear you call "mamma," or expect you are coming to 
me. You remember the three little babies at Dunley. 
Jane, the one that you nursed, is gone to heaven. May 
my Fanny know and love Jesus Christ ! then she will be 
sure to go to heaven whether she dies young or old. 
Some of the seeds are come up in your garden ; I love 
to watch them, because you helped me to sow them. 
Dear papa sends his love. Good bye, dear Fanny. 

From dear Mamma. 

In 1842 the living of Astley was resigned, and 
Henwick House, in the parish of Hallow, was our 
temporary home till our dear father's appoint- 
ment by Bishop Pepys to the Rectory of St. 
Nicholas, Worcester, in 1845. The only distinct 
remembrance of this time is of Frances' delight in 
the gardens and long terrace walk at Henwick, 
with sundry agile tree climbings. Perhaps her 
first grief was the death of her little dog Flo, which 
was buried under the snowy Mespilus tree in the 


back lawn. The sheet of paper is preserved on 
which she wrote : 

" Here lies little Flora. Died April i6th, 1844. 
Aged 7. Reverence her remains." 

Frances always took care to be in the drawing- 
room while a professor was giving German lessons. 
Without any one knowing it, she was listening 
and acquiring the language. When discovered, 
she had made such progress that Mr. Lorentz 
begged he might instruct her. 

The treasured little book in which she wrote 
her childish hymns and rhymes begins with the 
following verses written at the age of seven. 

SUNDAY is a pleasant day, 

When we to church do go ; 
For there we sing and read and pray, 

And hear the sermon too. 

On Sunday hear the village bells ; 

It seems as if they said, 
Go to the church where the pastor tells 

How Christ for man has bled. 

And if we love to pray and read 

While we are in our youth, 
The Lord will help us in our need 

And keep us in His truth. 

All her rhymes are dated, and also some simple 
tales, written in a copybook for the benefit of her 


little niece Miriam. From nine years old and 
upwards she wrote long and amusingly descriptive 
letters, in perfect rhyme and rhythm, to her brother 
Frank and her young friends. 

There would have been a long blank now but 
for the Autobiography of her inner child-life. It 
was written for her sister Maria, and unsealed only 
a few weeks ago. As the shadows on her morn- 
ing pathway contrast with the light that shone 
more and more unto the perfect day, it is thought 
right to give these pages in all their truthful 

(1843 1848.) 

Autobiography from six years old Wanting to be happy Sunday 
chapters and prayer Golden light Waving boughs 
"The caged lark" No hypocrisy Mother's last words 
Death No trance The cry of the motherless Wales 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. (Written in 1859.) 

I HAVE often already planned and half intended to 
write for my own amusement in coming years a 
sort of little autobiography of those which are past ; but 
this idea, although my life would furnish plenty of small 
adventures and incidents, I have now for several reasons 
laid aside ; I scarcely think it would repay the necessary 
outlay of many precious hours. For, more and more, do 
I feel what valuable capital Time is, capital which must 
not be put out at merely any interest, but as far as 
possible at the best and highest. In lieu however of a 
history of my outer life, I do think that a little account 
of my own inner life would be a not unprofitable invest- 
ment of an evening hour. And may He who has led 
me these twenty-two "years through the wilderness" 
send His blessing upon me while I " remember all the 
way " by which He, I trust, has brought me hitherto. 

My reasons for undertaking this little task are these, 
i st. I have found it so very pleasant and profitable to 

12 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

look back frequently upon what have been God's deal- 
ings with me, that a written retrospect is likely, with His 
blessing, to prove still more useful and delightful, as 
being less cursory and more definite. 2nd. I have 
always avoided keeping a diary, feeling certain that it 
never would or could be a strictly faithful picture of 
passing soul-life ; yet I think an account of the past, in a 
bird's-eye view, would be far easier to give in a true and 
uncoloured light than any memoranda of a present, which 
would be tinged with the prevailing hues of the moment, 
morning, noon, or twilight. Therefore, as I feel sure 
that I shall not retain such a clear recollection of 
each year's history when memory is more burdened, 
and as I believe that even our own "experience" 
is a thing given to be used and improved, it seems 
almost a duty to endeavour to preserve it as clear 
and ready for reference and use (at times when " His 
love in times past" may be an anchor for the storm- 
beset spirit) as may be. $rd. A diary no eye but mine 
should ever see. But, for one reason, one eye shall read 
these pages, if it should be God's will that the volume 
of my life should soon close. It is this. While I do 
humbly trust, though tremblingly, that I am a child of 
God, I know, and knowing bewail it, that much in my 
life and conversation has not been, and is not, "as be- 
cometh the gospel of Christ" ; and there must be some, 
if not many, among my own beloved ones, who have no 
direct evidence concerning me, and whom I must have 
often grieved by my inconsistency. And it might be 
that no opportunity of any " deathbed evidence " may 
be given me, or that my remaining time may be so short 
that I may never be able to show, by a closer walk with 


God, that I am truly His. And as He has in His 
wonderful, most wonderful, mercy given me hope, I would 
not that any dear to me should sorrow for me as without 
hope. So I shall give this to my dear sister Maria, to 
be opened only in case of my death; that she may 
have the comfort of hoping, that even in my darkest 
and most careless days I was not utterly forsaken of 
that Spirit, who I pray may never cease to strive 
with me. 

"Call to remembrance the days of old." 
" Thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy 
God hath led thee." 


Up. to the time that I was six years old I have no 
remembrance of any religious ideas whatever. Even, 
when taken once to see the corpse of a little boy of my 
own age (four years), lying in a coffin strewn with 
flowers, in dear papa's parish of Astley, I did not think 
about it as otherwise than a very sad and very curious 
thing that that little child should lie so still and cold. 
I do not think I could ever have said any of those 
"pretty things" that little children often do, though 
there were sweet and beloved and holy ones round me 
who must have often tried to put good thoughts into my 
little mind. But from six to eight I recall a different 
state of things. The beginning of it was a sermon 
preached one Sunday morning, at Hallow Church, by 
Mr. (now Archdeacon) Phillpotts. Of this I even now 
retain a distinct impression. It was to me a very ter- 
rible one, dwelling much on hell and judgment, and 
what a fearful thing it is to fall into the hands of the 


living God. No one ever knew it, but this sermon 
haunted me, and day and night it crossed me. I began 
to pray a good deal, though only night and morning, 
with a sort of fidget and impatience, almost angry at 
feeling so unhappy, and wanting and expecting to get a 
new heart, and have everything put straight and be made 
happy, all at once. 

This sort of thing went on at intervals, not at all con- 
tinuously, for often a month or two would pass without 
a serious thought or anything like true prayer. At 
such times I utterly abominated being "talked to," 
would do anything on earth to escape the kindly 

meant admonitions of dear M , or the prayers which 

she would offer for me. Any cut or bruise (and such 
were more the rule than exception in those wild days 
of tree-climbing, wall-scaling, etc.) was instantly adduced 
as a reason why I could not possibly kneel down. A 
chapter in the Bible was often a terrible bore. Then, 
after a time of this sort, some mere trifle, very often the 
influence of a calm beautiful evening, or perhaps a 
" Sunday book " of some affecting kind, would rouse 
me up to uncomfortableness again. One sort of habit 
I got into in a steady way, which was persevered in with 
more or less fervour according to the particular fit in 
which I might be. Every Sunday afternoon I went 
alone into a little front room (at Henwick) over the hall, 
and there used to read a chapter in the Testament, and 
then knelt down and prayed for a few minutes, after 
which I usually felt soothed and less naughty. Once 7 
when Marian P. was spending a few days with me, 
she being my only little visitor at Henwick, I did not 
like any omission, and so took her with me, saying a 


few words of prayer "out of my head" without any 
embarrassment at her presence. 

I think I had a far more vivid sense of the beauty of 
nature as a little child than I have even now ; and its 
power over me was greater than any one would imagine. 
I have hardly felt anything so intensely since, in the way 
of a sort of unbearable enjoyment. Especially, and I 
think more than anything else, the golden quiet of a 
bright summer's day used to enter into me and do me 
good. What only some great and rare musical enjoyment 
is to me now, the shade of a tree under a clear blue sky, 
with a sunbeam glancing through the boughs, was to me 
then. But I did not feel happy in my very enjoy- 
ment ; I wanted more. I do not think I was eight when 
I hit upon Cowper's lines, ending 

" My Father made them all ! " 

That was what I wanted to be able to say ; and, after 
once seeing the words, I never saw a lovely scene again 
without being teased by them. One spring (I think 
1845) I kept thinking of them, and a dozen times a day 
said to myself, "Oh if God would but make me a 
Christian before the summer comes ! " because I longed 
so to enjoy His works as I felt they could be enjoyed. 
And I could not bear to think of another summer com- 
ing and going, and finding and leaving me still " not a 
Christian." I shall know some day why my Father left 
me to walk thus alone in my early childhood, why such 
long years of dissatisfaction and restlessness were appor- 
tioned me, while others fancied me a happy thoughtless 
child. But He must have been teaching me, and " who 
teacheth like Him?" Another soothing influence to 


me was the presence of any one whom I believed to be 
more than commonly holy : not among those nearest 
and dearest to me at home ; how perversely I overlooked 
them / but any very pious clergyman, or other manifest 
and shining Christian. The Rev. John Davies, of St 
Clement's, I particularly reverenced; and his or an) 
similar presence did me a sort of indefinite good. I 
used to want such to speak a word about good things 
to me, much as I hated it from those who would will- 
ingly have given it me. 

All this while I don't think any one could have given 
the remotest guess at what passed in my mind, or have 
given me credit for a single serious thought. I knew I 
was " a naughty child," never entertained any doubts on 
the subject; in fact, I almost enjoyed my naughtiness in 
a savage desperate kind of way, because I utterly de- 
spaired of getting any better, except by being " made a 
Christian," which, as months passed on, leaving me 
rather worse than better, was a less and less hoped for, 
though more and more longed for, change. Towards the 
end of these two years I think (though I do not dis- 
tinctly remember) that I must have become a shade 
quieter and happier, because of what is the first memory 
in my next little soul era. 

July, 1845 Spring, 1850. 

We went to St. Nicholas' Rectory in 1845, an< 3 it 
was in very great bitterness that I bade adieu to my 
pleasant country life, and became, as I remember dear 
papa calling me, "a caged lark." This made a great 
difference to me, for I do think that the quiet every day 
beauty of trees and sunshine was the chief external influ- 


ence upon my early childhood. Waving boughs and 
golden light always touched and quieted me, and spoke to 
me, and told me about God. Being a "youngest" by 
so many years, and not knowing many children, I very 
rarely had a companion except my little Flora, in that 
large Henwick garden, where I first learned to think ; 
and that may have been the reason why trees and grass 
were so much to me. They were the first pleasant leaf 
in God's great lesson book with me. But at St. Nicholas' 
Rectory I had a little tiny room all my own, and that 
was quite the next best thing ; its little window was my 
"country" (for a "walk" with another was never the 
same thing as those lonely loiterings in the garden), and 
soon the sky and the clouds were the same sort of rela- 
tions to my spirit that trees and flowers had been. 

Soon after coming, a sermon by the curate on " Fear 
not, little flock," etc., struck me very much, and woke 
me up again from a longer slumber to a more restless 
unhappiness than usual. I did so want to be happy and 
be "a Christian," which term embraced everything I 
could possibly think of in the way of happiness. And I 
didn't at all see how I was to be, except by praying very 
hard ; and that I had done so often that I got quite dis- 
heartened at its resultlessness. At this time I don't think 
I had any clear ideas about believing on the Lord Jesus, 
and so getting rid of the burden which had pressed so 
long upon my little soul. My general notion was that 
I didn't love God at all, and was very bad and wicked 
altogether j that if I went on praying very much, some- 
thing would come to me and change me all at once, and 
make me like many whom I read about and a few whom 
I saw. As for trying to be good, that seemed of next to 



no use ; it was like struggling in a quicksand, the more 
you struggle the deeper you sink. To come back to the 
sermon. I had never yet spoken a word to any mortal 
about religion ; but now I was so uneasy that, after nearly 
a fortnight's hesitation, taking the emboldening opportu- 
nity of being alone with the curate one evening when 
almost dark, I told him my trouble; saying especially 
that I thought I was getting worse, because since I had 
come to St. Nicholas' I had not cared at all for Sunday 
afternoon reading and prayer. His advice did not satisfy 
me. He said the excitement of moving and coming into 
new scenes was the cause most likely of my feeling worse, 
and that would soon go off; then I was to try and be 
a good child, and pray, etc., etc. So, after that, my lips 
were utterly sealed to all but God for another five years 
Oi % rather more. Even when feeling most, I fancied I 
could as soon speak Sanscrit, or die, as utter a word to 
a human being on what was only between me and God. 
This intense reserve must have grieved those who loved 
me. Consequently too, anything like hypocrisy was the 
sin of all others which I could least understand, and 
imagined the most impossible to commit. How coula 
any one say or seem more than they felt, when it was so 
impossible to say as much as one felt ! 

My dear mamma's illness and death (July 5th, 1848) 
did not make the impression on me which might have 
been expected; I mean as regards my spiritual state, 
for my intense sorrow, childish though it was, seems even 
now, after the lapse of eleven years, a thing of which I 
do not like to speak or think. A mother's death must 
be childhood's greatest grief. But I am trying now to 
write only of my soul's life. I did not at all expect her 


departure, and shut my ears in a very hardened way to 
those who tried to prepare me for it ; so when it came I 
was not ready, and there was nothing but bitterness in it 
to me. I did not, would not, see God's hand in it, and 
the stroke left me worse than it found me. 

One subject often occupied my mind in these years, 
which would seem unusual for a child the Lord's 
Supper. After coming to St. Nicholas', almost every 
monthly sacrament made me thoughtful. I begged to 
be allowed to stay in the church and see it administered 
" only once," but this apparently mere curiosity was not 
gratified, so I used to go round to the vestry and listen 
to the service through the door. One Sunday the hymn 
" My God, and is Thy table spread/' was sung before 
sermon ; it quite upset me, and I cried violently, though 
being in a corner of the pew I managed to conceal 
it. I used to reckon the years to the time when the 
invitation would extend to me too, not by any means 
happily, for I wondered what I should ever do ; I could 
not stay away, but how could I dare to go? "Well, I 
hope I shall be a Christian by then !" was my only 

Turning from the Autobiography, some of her 
mother's words are given. 

"You are my youngest little girl, and I feel 
more anxious about you than the rest. I do pray 
for the Holy Spirit to lead you and guide you. 
And remember, nothing but the precious blood of 
Christ can make you clean and lovely in God's 


Frances. " Oh, mamma, I am sure you will get 
better and go to church again !" 

" No, dear child ; the church mamma is going to 
is the general assembly and church of the firstborn 
in heaven. How glorious to know I shall soon see 
my Saviour face to face ! Now go and play and 
sing some of your little hymns for me ; there is 
one verse I should like you to sing twice over: 

" And when her path is darkened 

She lifts her trusting eye, 
And says 'my Father calls me 
To mansions in the sky !' " 

Before her mother's death (when she was eleven 
years old) her wish was gratified to see the Lord's 
Supper administered. We remember her grave, 
flushed face, when kneeling at her mother's bed 
during the " Communion of the Sick." 

The whole story of her child life at this time is 
told in her " Four Happy Days," in which, under 
the name of " Annie," she reveals the bitterness of 
this first grief. We can almost see her in her tiny 
bedroom, " kneeling on the chair, leaning her little 
arms on the window-seat, and feeling as if she 
wished she had something to lean her little heart 
on too. The clouds had been her great friends 
since she had had no trees to sit in and make up 
fancies about. Sometimes she watched the clouds 

" FOUR HAPPY DA YS. n 2 1 

and wondered all sorts of things about them, and 
especially wished she could reach the splendid 
white ones which looked like snow mountains that 
could be climbed and rested upon. But she found 
in a book that they were only vapour like the 
others, and that there would be nothing to rest 
upon and look down upon, only dismal thick mist 
and rain. Poor child ! there are other bright 
things besides shining clouds, which when reached 
are only mist and tears. . . . She was musing 
over some words which had just been spoken in 
her mother's room. ' Fanny dear, pray to God 
to prepare you for all that He is preparing for 
you.' Her mamma said them very feebly and 
solemnly when she said good-night, and now 
they seemed to sound over and over again, so 
that they never should or could be forgotten. 
' I wonder what He is preparing for me,' she 
thought. ' Oh I do hope He is preparing one 
of the many mansions for me ! how I wish I knew 
whether He is ! But I don't think He is preparing 
me for it, else I should not feel naughty so often.' 
But her mamma meant something sadder and 
nearer, which she knew God was surely preparing 
day by day for her little girl ; she knew it could 
not be very long before she would be singing the 
' new song ' in perfect joy, while all her child's 
little songs would be hushed in great sorrow, the 


greatest that a child can know. Her mamma 
saw how strangely she was unprepared for all this, 
and she never would stay to listen to anything 
her sisters said about their dear mamma being 

Only a few weeks before her own death, Frances 
referred to this : " The words mamma taught me 
in 1848 have been a life prayer with me. This 
' preparing ' goes on ; it is as when gaining one 
horizon, another and another spreads before you. 
So every event prepares us for the next that is 
prepared for us. Mamma's words I also re- 
member, 'Dear child, you have your own little 
bedroom now, it ought to be a little Bethel.' I 
could not then make head or tail of what she 
meant, and often wondered, till some months after, 
when reading in Genesis I came to the chapter ; 
and then I understood it. Having that small 
room to myself developed me much as a child ; it 
was mine, and to me it was the cosiest little nest 
in the world." 

We must take one more look (from the "Four 
Happy Days") at St. Nicholas' Rectory on the 
nth of July, 1848. "Annie [Frances] was stand- 
ing by the window in a front room, looking 
through a little space between the window and 
blind. All the shops were shut up, though it was 
not Sunday. She knew it would be dreadful to 


look out of that window, and yet she felt she must 
look. She did not cry, she only stood and shivered 
in the warm air. 

" Very slowly and quietly a funeral passed out of 
the front [Rectory] gate, and in another minute 
was out of sight, turning into the church. Then she 
stood no longer, but rushed away to her own little 
room, and flung herself on her little bed, and cried 
'oh, mamma ! mamma ! mamma !' It seemed as if 
there was nothing else in her little heart but that 
one word. The strange hope which had lasted all 
that week was gone. She had found curious 
things in books, and one was that people had 
sometimes been supposed to be dead and yet it 
was only a trance, and they had revived and even 
recovered. And so, when no one was near, she 
had gone again and again into that room, and 
drawn the curtain aside, half expecting to see the 
dear eyes unclose, and to feel the cold cheek warm 
again to her kiss. But it was no trance. The 
dear suffering mother was at rest, seeing Jesus 
face to face. Only the smile of holy peace was 
left on that lovely face, and that remained to 
the last, telling of life beyond death ; she had 
never seen the solemn beauty of that smile 
before. But now all hope was gone, and she 
knew that she was motherless." 

In her little book of poems she wrote : 


Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, 

Neither can man's heart conceive, 
The blessed things God hath prepared 
For those who love Him and believe. 

July 5//;, 1848. 
And again : 

Oh ! had I the wings of a dove, 
Soon, soon would I be at my rest ; 

I would fly to the Saviour I love, 
And there would I lie on His breast. 

July f)th. 

On a marble tablet in St. Nicholas' Church, 
Worcester, is this inscription. 


The beloved Wife of Rev. W. H. HAVERGAL, M.A., 
Rector of this Parish, and Hon. Canon of Worcester 

Died in holy peace, July 5th, 1848, 


" I give unto them eternal life" 

After this sorrowful time our dear father took us 
all away to North Wales. On cur return Frances 
often visited her sister Miriam's home, Oakhamp- 
ton, where she is remembered as a clever amusing 
child, sometimes a little wilful and troublesome 
from mere excess of animal spirits, but always 
affectionate and grateful for any little treat ; read- 
ing a good deal of poetry, and leaving traces of 


her studies in volumes found in hayloft and manger 
and garden nooks. 

When at St. Nicholas' Rectory, she threw herself 
into the work of her society for providing warm 
clothing ; and her chief coadjutor (whom she calls 
"Maria" in "Four Happy Days ") was the youngest 
daughter of Michael Thomas Sadler, M.P. 

Though her grief for her dear mother's death 
was very deep, she ever tried to conceal it. Not 
that it was always heavy upon her, for as she 
writes : " If anything else occupied my attention 
I had a happy faculty of forgetting everything else 
for the moment. And thus it happened that a 
merry laugh or a sudden light-heeled scamper 
upstairs and downstairs led others to think I had 
not many sad thoughts, whereas not a minute 
before my little heart was heavy and sad." 


(1848 1852.) 

The new decade Meteor flashes " Oh for faith " School at 
last Showers, but no blessing Breaking the ice The 
climax The school sunbeam A gleam of hope Trusting 
Jesus School again Illness and patience Wales Sing- 
ing and responding at " Taffy services." 


I KNOW I did not love God at this time, the very 
thought of Him frightened me ; but sometimes a 
feeling not unlike love would make me go to sleep with 
a wet pillow. It would often be thus. Going to bed, 
I would determine I would try to think about God, hard 
as it was \ and after I lay down, as my thoughts did not 
flow at all naturally heavenward, any more than water 
flows upward, I forced them into a definite channel by a 
half whisper. " How good it was of God to send Jesus 
to die ! " was my usual beginning, while I by no means 
felt or believed that wonderful goodness. Nevertheless it 
usually ended in my crying most heartily because I was 
so bad and He was so good, and because I didn't and 
couldn't love Him when He even died for sinners. 

Here I ought to say that, for preservation from one 
deadly error, I ought especially to be thankful to my 
ever watchful Keeper. Never for one moment, even from 
my earliest childhood, have I ever been tempted to think 


otherwise of myself than as a great and miserable and 
helpless sinner. Never have I dared to think myself " as 
good as others," for even as a little child I knew and 
felt the sinfulness of my own heart. Never has the 
shadow of a hope in my own righteousness, or of any 
trust in myself, crossed my mind. Yet even this I say 
with the reservation that it is and has been so, as far 
as my own consciousness goes, for every year shows me 
more and more the utter deceitfulness of the heart : 
"who can know it! " Oh the comfort of thinking that 
there is One who knows it, and can therefore cleanse 
its most hidden chambers from their dark pollution. 
" O God, unto whom all hearts be open," etc., is one 
of the sweetest things in our sweet Liturgy, to me, and 
it is wonderful what confidence it has often given me. 

So passed the five years till the spring of 1850, a time 
full of many recollections which I should like to retrace, 
had I not determined to abide by my intention of recall- 
ing only the history of what I would now dare to hope, 
though for many years I doubted it, is God's own work 
in me, which He, according to His promise, will perfect 
in His own time. 

1850 (Spring) to 1851 (February). 

The bells were ringing in the new year, and not year 
only but decade, when Maria woke me and said, " It is 
1850 now, Fanny ! " It was quite dark, and I lay listen- 
ing to the new year's birth-song in silence. A dim 
looking onward through a fresh " ten years " all the way 
till 1860 came before me; I should be grown up if I 
lived ; I a woman, how curious it seemed ! Perhaps I 
should be dead, and where ? If I lived, should I be a 


Christian ? That was the great thing in all my anticipa- 
tions of corning years ; but in a solemn hour, like a new 
year's midnight, it grew greater and more important than 
ever. The sound of the bells died away, and all was 
quiet again. I did not muse long, but fell asleep to 
wake up in the first grey twilight of 1850. 

Now the decade has nearly glided by (the first entire 
one in my recollection) ; the new year's bells of 1860 
will soon be sounding forth ; God has preserved my life 
hitherto ; and how shall I answer the great question then, 
not "shall I be" but "am I, a Christian?" May I, 
trusting and believing in the Lord Jesus as I do hope 
He has taught me to do, answer this great question of 
my life with a humble yet confident " yes " ? And, in 
entering upon another ten years, may I not hope that 
"to him that hath shall be given," that He will give me 
more faith, hope, and love, more knowledge of Himself, 
more meetness for His presence ? Amen! 

I don't so much remember particular incidents in the 
early part of this year as general feelings and impres- 
sions, which were then rather altered in character, so 
much so as to form the beginning of a new division in 
my heart story. This much I know, that a soberizing 
thoughtful time seemed to fall on me like a mantle, and 
my strivings were no longer the passionate spasmodic 
meteor flashes which they had been, but something 
deeper, more settled, more sorrowful. All this was 
secret and only within my own breast, for not only at 
this time but all through my early life there were but 
a very few who knew me to be anything but a careless 
merry girl, light hearted in the extreme. This spring a 
strange new sense of the vanity of life and earth and 


everything but the one thing came over me, and when 
alone I sat and mused till I often cried. I began to 
look onward more, and feel that I should not be a child 
much longer (I was thirteen) ; and then years would go 
by so quickly, people said they did, they went faster even 
then to me ; and what would they bring ? vanity and 
sameness and vexation ? And life began to seem such a 
little thing to me, such " a handbreadth," and what was 
there in it to care for ? I couldn't expect a happier lot 
than I had, and yet all I had was unsatisfactory ; and 
I should always be myself too, and I hated myse/f, so 
what was to be done ? 

Two or three things happened (though I do not at all 
remember what), which tended very strongly to confirm 
these sad thoughts ; death seemed around me ; " passing 
away " earth's motto ; " vanity " life's keynote. As the 
beautiful spring came 3>n there was a mist of melancholy 
over the very flowers : they had opened, well, what 
matter? they would fade again, and so would every- 
thing ! I did not enjoy that spring as I had others, its 
charm was gone. In the end of May I joined Ellen in 
London, and we spent six weeks of gorgeous summer 
weather together at Wycombe with grandpapa. What 
brought it before me I don't know, but now came a more 
definite and earnest prayer, for faith. Oh to believe in 
Jesus, to believe that He had pardoned me ! I used to 
go to bed rather early, and lie awake in the long summer 
twilight till Ellen came up, praying for this precious gift. 
Oh for faith ! That was my cry ; but it was not given, 
at least not as and when I asked. I read a great deal of 
the Bible at this time in a " straight on " sort of way, 
expecting to come to something which would set me free 


and bring the great gift of faith within my grasp. How 
I got it I can't in the least tell ; but certainly about this 
time I had a clearer idea of salvation than ever before, 
though I fancied myself farther than ever from its 

This reminds me that as a child I read a good deal 
of the Bible, Isaiah being nearly my favourite book from 
the time I was ten or eleven. I never succeeded in 
reading for any length of time on any regular plan, 
because if I missed at all in one I got disheartened and 
ennuyee, and after giving up altogether for a little while 
began something else. Once I determined, if eternal 
life were in the Scriptures, find it / would, and resolved 
to begin giving an hour a day to very careful and 
prayerful reading of the New Testament. 

Then came the great break in the current of my outer 
life, and with it a development of the inner. August 1 5th, 
1850, to my great delight I went to school. And that 
single half-year with dear Mrs. Teed, formerly of Great 
Campden House, at Belmont now, was perhaps the most 
important to me of any in my life. The night before I 
went, Ellen, dear, gentle, heavenly sister that she was, 
stood by me, brushing my hair, and taking the last 
opportunity of loving counsel. She told me that I was 
going to begin a new chapter in my life : stay, her words 
were, " One of the great events of your life, Fanny ! " 
and then she was silent. I was captiously disposed, and 
rather wanted to avoid a serious conversation, so I 
answered carelessly, for I knew by the tone of her voice 
what she wanted to lead on to. But it would not do, she 
went on till I was softened, a most unusual thing under 
the process of being talked to, which generally had the 


most opposite effect. She spoke of God's love, and of 
how pleasant and sweet a thing it was to love Him who 
first loved us. I could not stand it, and for the first 
time for five years I spoke out : " I can't love God yet, 
Nellie ! " was all I said, but I felt a great deal more. 

Next day I went. Maria took me, and we reached 
Belmont quite in the evening. It was nearly prayer- 
time, and Maria and I were left to have some tea alone 
in the great drawing-room. We had just finished when 
voices reached us, and we tried to find our way in their 
direction. They came from the schoolroom, where the 
girls were singing their evening hymn prior to the 
weekly address of their chaplain. It sounded very sweet 
and soothing, as we stood behind the door in the last 
glow of sunset, and somewhat subdued the spirits and 
the curiosity which were exciting me considerably. 
Then Miss Teed came out and brought us in, just as 
Mr. Parker was beginning his sermon. It was from some 
text in Samuel which I forget ; but the two leading ideas 
were, that we should begin the new half-year with the 
Saviour who loved us and gave Himself for us, and in a 
spirit of helpful love one toward another. It was a rather 
long address, and I was very tired and excited, so I 
know I did not listen to it nearly all ; but this much I 
have retained until now, and it was the keynote of my 
prayer that evening as I knelt for the first time beside 
my little school bed, so white and curtainless. 

How I should like to run on with many reminiscences 
of school life ! But I will not ! It was not long before 
I felt that Mrs. Teed's teaching was something more 
than common, but, till towards the end of the half-year, 
things went on much as usual with me. 


After the middle of the half-year there was a differ- 
ence. It was Mrs. Teed's finale to her long course of 
school work, and she longed and prayed that it might 
indeed be finished with joy through the outpouring of 
God's blessing upon her labours. That none might 
leave her roof unimpressed was her desire, and it was to 
a great extent fulfilled. She prayed and spoke with us, 
together and individually, with a fervour which I have 
never since seen equalled, and seemed a very St. Paul in 
the intensity of her yearning over us. The result was 
what might be really called a revival among her young 
charge. There may have been, and probably was, some 
excitement ; but that the Holy Spirit was, even then and 
there, sent down into many a young heart, and that 
many dated from that time their real conversion to God, 
and went home that Christmas rejoicing in a newly 
and truly found Saviour, I have no doubt whatever. My 
own two dearest friends were among these. 

But, before the full tide of all this blessing set in, I was 
much in earnest. To begin with ; it must indeed have 
been a heart of stone that could resist dear Mrs. Teed's 
sweet and .holy power. Besides, we had pious teachers 
who often spoke on the best things to us, and had little 
meetings for prayer weekly in their own rooms. And 
there were many Christian girls too, easily recognised by 
their general " walk and conversation," almost by their 
very countenances ; these I knew " took sweet counsel 
together," and I envied them and longed to dare to 

share it. Mary was one of these ; we were naturally 

a great deal together, and I longed to be able to speak 
and tell her how unhappy I often was ; but it was 
long before I summoned courage. At last I did. 


" Mary, dites-moi, est-ce que vous aimez Dieu ? " (We 
always had to speak French.) She looked almost 
surprised, there was no doubt about the matter with 
her. " Oui, certainement," she said, " je 1'aime plus que 
je ne pourrais vous dire." Then I burst into tears and 
sobbed out " Eh bien, c'est cela que je desire tant, et 
moi je ne le puis pas ! " The ice was broken, and dear 
Mary spoke very sweetly to me : I did not regret my 
confidence this time. "Pouvez vous ou voulez vous 
dire que vous etes encore un petit enfant?" "Oh, 
oui, je sais que je ne suis qu'un enfant." "Alors, 
ecoutez ! Jesus disait, ' Suffer the little children/ etc. 
C'est chaque petit enfant qui doit venir a Lui, chaque 
petit enfant qu'Il appelle, qu'Il veut embrasser." She 
begged me to go to Jesus and tell Him I wanted to love 
Him and could not, and then He would teach me to. 
The words of wise and even eminent men have since 
then fallen on my ear, but few have brought the dewy 
refreshment to my soul which the simple loving words of 
my little Heaven-taught schoolfellow did. But as yet 
they were only as a " very lovely song," etc., though I 
loved to listen to them, and acted upon them in darkness 
and trembling. After this I had many talks with Mary, 
but with no one else. Even with Diana, the goddess 
almost among my school friendships, and whom I 
believed to be like Mary, not a syllable could I utter on 
the subject; though I longed to hear her speak to me 
as Mary did. 

November came, and with it a marked increase of 
anxiety among undecided, and earnestness among de- 
cided ones. I remember a feeling of awe stealing over 
me sometimes, at the consciousness that the " power of 



the Lord was present" among us. For so indeed it 
was. As day after day passed on, one after another 
might be observed (even though little or nothing were 
said) to be going through the great sorrow which 
seemed to prelude the after-sent peace; and day after 
day one after another, hitherto silent, spoke out and 
told what peace and joy in believing they had found, 
and blessed God that they ever came to Belmont. Re- 
ligious topics became the common subjects of conversa- 
tion among the girls ; for even those as yet untouched 
could not but be struck with what passed around them. 
in very general conversation I occasionally joined, but 
more reservedly than any almost, and never alluding to 
my own feelings, though I knew what it was for my 
heart to feel as if it must burst. I am not quite sure, 

but I think, when Elizabeth told me that she too 

had found peace, I told her enough of my heart to 
establish confidence between us. 

As I heard of one and another speaking in such terms 
of confidence and gladness, my heart used to sink 
within me, it seemed so utterly unattainable. I prayed 
despairingly, as a drowning man cries for help who sees 
no help near. I had prayed and sought so long, and 
yet I was farther off than these girls, many of whom had 
only begun to think of religion a few weeks before. It 
was so very dark around me ; I could not see Jesus in 
the storm nor hear His voice. They spoke of His power 
and willingness to save, but I could find nothing to 
prove that He was willing to save me, and I wanted some 
special personal evidence about it. To know, surely, that 
my sins were forgiven, and to have all my doubts taken 
away, was what I prayed and waited for. Every day 


as it passed, while more were added to the rejoicing 
ones around me, only left me more hopeless, more 
heartsick at the hope deferred and often almost lost. 

Yet I drank in every word (and they were many) that 
I heard about Jesus and His salvation. I came to 
see that it was Christ alone that could satisfy me. I 
longed intensely to come to Him, I wept and prayed 
day and night; but "there was no voice nor any that 

The climax came about the first or second week in 
December. I shall never, never forget the evening of 
Sunday, December 8th. Either the sermon at church or 
Mrs. Teed's subject, or both, had been Mark ii. 1-12. 
Anyhow, I know we had heard much of that palsied one 
in his lonely helplessness, and of Christ's words of forgive- 
ness, bringing joy and power and healing. Diana had 
hardly seen me all day, which was an unusual thing. 
(She was the sunbeam of the school, and a most par- 
ticular friend of mine, and I loved her with a perfectly 
idolatrous affection, such as, until that time, I had never 
given to any one. I, and most others, always supposed 
that her charming disposition and general sweetness 
arose from a purer and deeper fount than could dwell 
in her own nature; yet she never spoke on sacred 
things, though she seemed as faultless as a child could 

For some days previously she had mixed as little as 
possible with others, though apparently unintentionally, 
and there had been a slight depression about her which, 
though probably unnoticed by others, struck me, from 
being accustomed to watch every changing light on her 
face with something approaching adoration. That even- 




ing, as I sat nearly opposite to her at tea, I could not 
help seeing nobody could a new and remarkable 
radiance about her countenance. It seemed literally 
lighted up from within, while her voice (I wonder 
whether it was as musical to others as to me !) even in 
the commonest necessary remarks sounded like a song 
of gladness. Something was coming I was sure. Diana 
was not the same. I looked at her almost with awe, as 
one would on some spirit visitant. As soon as tea was 
over she came round to my side of the table, sat down 
by me on the form, threw her arm round me, and said : 
" Oh, Fanny, dearest Fanny, the blessing has come to 
me at last. Jesus has forgiven me, I know. He is my 
Saviour, and I am so happy ! He is such a Saviour as 
I never imagined, so good, so loving ! He has not cast 
me out, He said so, and He says so to you. Only come 
to Him and He will receive you. Even now He loves 
you though you don't know it." Much more she said 
which I do not remember, but the tone of her voice is as 
clearly sounding in my ear as if she still spoke. Yes, 
she had found peace, and more than peace, overflowing 
unspeakable joy ; yet, even in the first gush of its shining 
waters, she thought of those around, and almost her first 
impulse was to desire that her friends should possess 
what had been given to her to find. Then she told me 
how, while every one had supposed her to be a Christian, 
she had not been so, though she had been seeking and 
praying for a long time ; and how, that day, the words 
"thy sins be forgiven thee" had struck her suddenly, 
and she had thought them over all day till the time came 
when she could be alone with Him who spoke them ; 
and then came the joyful power of believing in the love 


and might of that gracious Saviour, and His death- 
bought pardon. 

Afterwards, she told me how new and strange many 
things seemed to her. The way in which she spoke of 
motives particularly impressed me. It was a new light 
to me. Actions, words, and intentions had been enough 
for me before, but from that evening I felt that my 
standard was raised, and that henceforth my strivings 
after a holy life must include more than I had dreamt of. 
A consciousness of the purity of heart required by God 
came over me ; and, though more disheartened than 
ever, I had learnt a great lesson. 

The few remaining days, till the holidays, passed much 
as before, except that the last two or three unsettled me, 
and made me very much indisposed for a continuance of 
the earnest steady toil of the foregoing weeks ; for the 
first coming home from school, at the end of an unbroken 
half-year, is not a little thing to a child. 

From that time till the spring of the present year I 
date a course of weary seeking, inconstant and variable ; 
often departed from, but as often renewed, and by God's 
grace never entirely given up ; brightened from time to 
time with a gleam of hope ; sweetened from time to time 
with a drop, though but a drop, of the still fountain of 
heavenly peace ; yet, as a rule, passed in the cold mists 
of doubt, and the chilly storms of temptation and inward 
strife, and the dim twilight of miserable and even dis- 
appointed longing. 

Oh, how gladly I would have exchanged my best 
things of earth, my happiest months and years, as far 
as outward things were concerned, with any one's lot, 
however wretched, who possessed that joy in the Lord 


which I could not find. At any time I would willingly 
have lost or suffered anything, might it but have brought 
me to the attainment of "full assurance." And I am 
quite sure that nothing, in the way of earthly and external 
trials, could have been to me what the inner darkness 
and strife and utter weariness of spirit, through the 
greater part of these years, has been. Many may have 
thought mine a comparatively thornless path ; but often 
when the path was smoothest there were hidden thorns 
within, and wounds bleeding and rankling. 

February, 1851. 

I feel that the beginning of this year ought to be 
marked as the commencement of a new life-chapter, 
because it was then that, for the first time, I ever knew 
what it was to have one gleam of hope or trust in Christ, 
or one spark of conscious faith. Not that I would date 
conversion exactly from this time; that I cannot fix. 
The time I know not, the fact I would desire to "make 
sure " more and more. 

Having broken the ice by speaking on sacred things 
with a few at Belmont, it was the less difficult to do so 
again, and before long I had made a confidante of Miss 
Cooke (who afterwards became my loved mother). I 
think it must have been February when she was visiting 
at Oakhampton at the same time with me and had several 
conversations with me, each of which made me more 
earnest and hopeful. At last, one evening, (I remember 
it was twilight,) I sat on the drawing-room sofa alone with 
her, and told her again how I longed to know that I was 
forgiven. She asked me a question which led to the hearty 
answer that I was sure I desired it above everything on 


earth, that even my precious papa was nothing in com- 
parison, brothers and sisters, and all I loved, I could lose 
everything were it but to attain this. She paused, and 
then said slowly : " Then Fanny, I think, / am sure, it 
will not be very long before your desire is granted, 
your hope fulfilled/' After a few more words she said : 
"Why cannot you trust yourself to your Saviour at 
once? Supposing that now, at this moment, Christ 
were to come in the clouds of heaven, and take up 
His redeemed, could you not trust Him ? Would 
not His call, His promise, be enough for you ? Could 
you not commit your soul to Him, to your Saviour, 
Jesus?" Then came a flash of hope across me, 
which made me feel literally breathless. I remember 
how my heart beat. "I could, surely," was my re- 
sponse j and I left her suddenly and ran away upstairs 
to think it out. I flung myself on my knees in my room, 
and strove to realize the sudden hope. I was very 
happy at last. I could commit my soul to Jesus. I did 
not, and need not, fear His coming. I could trust Him 
with my all for eternity. It was so utterly new to have 
any bright thoughts about religion that I could hardly 
believe it could be so, that I had really gained such 
a step. Then and there, I committed my soul to the 
Saviour, I do not mean to say without any trembling 
or fear, but I did and earth and heaven seemed bright 
from that moment I did trust the Lord Jesus. 

For the next few days my happiness continued. Over 
and over again, I renewed that giving up my soul to the 
Saviour which had made entrance for the joy. For the 
first time my Bible was sweet to me, and the first 
passage which I distinctly remember reading, in a new 


and glad light, was the fourteenth and following chapters 
of St. John's Gospel. We went to Bewdley in the large 
carriage, and I rode outside, so had no conversation 
to disturb me. In coming home I took out a little 
Testament from my pocket, and read those beautiful 
chapters, feeling how wondrously loving and tender they 
were, and that now I too might share in their beauty and 

We must again leave the Autobiography, to 
supply some needed links. 

In July 1851 our father married Caroline Ann,, 
daughter of John Cooke, Esq., of Gloucester. One 
of Frances* poetical letters lovingly describes her 
satisfaction at this event. 

Her great desire to go to school was again 
gratified, and on the 5th of August, 1851, she went 
to Powick Court, near Worcester. Being one of the 
first arrivals, Frances was invited to tea in the 
drawing-room, and exceedingly astonished Miss 
Haynes by throwing her arms around her, ex- 
claiming " I am so delighted to come to school ! " 
Towards December, however, when enjoying her 
studies, the intensity of her application was 
checked by severe erysipelas in her face and 
head. She was soon removed home, and both 
school and home studies were prohibited by 
medical order. I well remember her patience even 
then, when almost blind, and passing many weeks 


of precaution, wearisome to her naturally active 
mind and body. She was so extremely agile in 
every movement, a very fairy with her golden curls 
and light step, her dear father calling her his 
" Little Quicksilver," that to " lie still " was no 
light trial. 

Extracts from letters to Elizabeth Clay, her 
schoolfellow and life-long correspondent, will here 
and elsewhere supply an otherwise lost link ; they 
extend over a period of twenty-eight years, and 
are those referred to in future pages as letters 
" to E. C." 

COLWYN, NORTH WALES, August 1852. 

We came here on the 2nd. The change is doing us 
all good, and we think dear papa's eyes are a little 
better. Colwyn suits me much better than Llandudno, 
and I am as well as possible. We find pretty walks ad 
infinitum. The donkey-girl teaches me Welsh. I think 
I learn it very fast, and I have a Welsh Testament and 
Prayer Book. At what Mary calls the " Taffy service " 
I can sing and chant and respond as fully as the natives 
themselves. . . . 

Now for a little quiet bit, to tell you how I am getting 
on. I wish I were not so impatient as I am, at hearing 
the (to me) dreadful news that I must on no account go 
to school again till after Christmas, and perhaps not at 
all ! Oh I am so disappointed ! I cannot bear to be 
ignorant and behind others in learning, so this check is 
just what I most needed. Still, I am sure it will be all 


right ; and if I receive good things at the hand of such a 
Father, shall I murmur at such a drawback, which is only 
to teach me a lesson I must learn after all. . . . 
How bright everything seems with you ! I fear I shall 
never have such joy, still I do not give up seeking ; but 
there seem so many things in the way. I have been 
thinking a great deal about my confirmation, though it 
will not be for two years. It seems such a solemn vow. 
I fear I should never have strength to keep it ; but it is 
one of my most constant prayers that, if I am spared to 
be confirmed, I may never act as if I had not been. 



School at Dusseldorf Journey to Westphalia Leaving school 
Numero I. Autobiography resumed Life in the pastor's 
family The Countess von Lippe Letter from Pastor Schulze- 
Berge The day of confirmation In Worcester cathedral 
"Thine for ever" Home life Oakhampton enjoyment 
" Welcome home to my father." 

IN November she accompanied her parents to 

(To E. C.) 

GRAFRATH, November 1852. 

. . . We arrived here, that papa might consult the 
great oculist; Dr. De Leuw. The Hofrath is very good 
to his poor patients, and attends to them most carefully, 
and never charges them anything ; the village is full of 
them. The country round Grafrath must be pretty in 
summer, and I have found some nice walks. The 
master of our hotel has a partiality for cats and dogs, 
and, as they follow him up to bed every night, the gentle 
patter of fifty-two feet is extremely amusing. 

The Hofrath says papa has incipient cataract, which 
he hopes to be able to disperse. As we need remain 
here only three weeks, we shall winter in Dusseldorf. I 
will tell you about my school there, to which I am long- 
ing to return. The " Louisenschule " is so called from 


the Queen of Prussia. There are no private schools here, 
and all the young ladies seem to attend this school, 
which numbers one hundred and ten scholars. . . . 

(To E, C.) 

KONIGSWINTER, May 13, 1853, 

. . . Having had a month's holiday here, I am 
going back to the Louisenschule. Fraulein Quincke is 
a very excellent schoolmistress, and the masters are un- 
doubtedly very good. My music master is extremely 
particular. I find some harmonic scales by Mendelssohn 
good practice, but all my pretty English splashy pieces 
are interdicted. I have joined the drawing class and am 
so fond of it. The school is under the direction of 
that good man, Pastor Krafft, so altogether papa has 
decided to let me have my way and return to school, 
while he and mamma travel about. I can chatter pretty 
fast in German, and am so well /;/ with all their lesson 
plans, that I should be sorry not to return. I had an 
excellent testimony at the Easter examination. 

Papa has taken us an excursion into Westphalia, 
partly in the hope of finding some interesting cousins 
there, inasmuch as Dr. De Leuw and others assure us 
our name is Westphalian. But so far we have not suc- 
ceeded. We were delighted with Miinster, the capital, a 
curious old German town. The market place is sur- 
rounded with beautiful arcades of massive stone (instead 
of wood as at Chester), the light figurate pillars and 
open stonework are extremely elegant. While mamma 
rested at the hotel, papa took me to the cathedral. 
The bells were chiming confusedly. It was a lovely 
evening after sunset. We went in, and I never saw any- 


thing so enchanting. The light, soft and faint, streamed 
in through the western window, casting upon the pave- 
ment, beneath, the shadows of the marble pillars which 
supported the organ, in a peculiar way. Scattered about 
were a few solitary worshippers, some before a cross or 
image, and some with books and tapers. We listened to 
what seemed to be the sound of very sweet chanting in 
the choir, but on going nearer it had ceased, and was 
echoing in another part. It was in fact the sound of 
the bells, their extremely beautiful tones floating softly 
through the long aisles of the cathedral. Altogether I 
cannot describe the impressions made upon one, but I 
can well imagine how the worshippers, kneeling about the 
cathedral, might mistake the quiet soothing feeling, 
which such a scene easily induces, for holy devotion. 
Popery knows well how to lull and deceive, knows well 
how to entrap the senses and feelings ; and nothing can 
be better suited to the natural heart than such a religion. 
Next morning a confirmation was held in one of the 
churches we happened to visit, and there, for the first 
time, I saw the elevation of the host. Have you ever 
seen it ? You should for once. It is so saddening, so 
dreadful, at the tinkling of a bell to see a whole congre- 
gation kneel and worship a wafer ! Afterwards there was 
a procession round the church twenty times, with the 
host, acolytes, and incense, which same incense gives 
everything the most heathenish look ; and, while banners 
and crosses and pictures of saints passed round, a 
litany to the saints was chanted, with " Or a pro nobis " 
coming over and over again. 

We have made other excursions, etc. How much 
pleasure I have had, all I wish and all I want ; but am I 


having my good things here? I wish I knew which 
Master I am serving. Should I let go my hold on 
Christ so often and so readily, if mine were a true hold 
on Him ? I began so well at school, and thought that 
earthly learning would not for this time tempt me to 
forget heavenly things ; but day after day I grew more 
eager for my lessons, and less earnest in seeking Jesus. 
. . . It is pleasant to get good news from England. 
I am so proud and pleased about my brother Frank. 
He was ordained at Christmas, and accepted a curacy 
at Hereford with good Mr. Hanbury. Six months after- 
wards he was appointed to a minor canonry at Hereford 
Cathedral; so he is the youngest Minor Canon ever 
elected in England. My dear brother Henry has an- 
other little daughter ; how I love my brothers ! 

(To E. C.) 

OBERCASSEL, September 17, 1853. 
... I have left school for ever I suppose, and 
came here from Diisseldorf. What a suffocating feeling 
it is, leaving school for ever a period, an era, completely 
passed and left behind ! One feels that childhood is 
over now, and a sense of tenfold increased responsi- 
bility and independence, so to speak, is a weight upon 
the spirit. The strings seem loosed which have 
hitherto bound and yet protected one, a child's 
obedience and diligence. One's future education and 
formation of character, whether for good or evil, depends 
now upon oneself; indeed in a measure one's whole life, 
one's happiness or misery through the whole pilgrimage, 
must be very, very greatly influenced by, and dependent 
on, that important time, the first year after leaving school. 


Many a power of mind must be exercised which, as yet, 
has had little opportunity to try its flight ; judgment 
and discretion in a thousand things are needful; one 
must think and act far more for oneself; self-denial 
must be learnt ; oh so much has to be done ! As a child, 
the education of the mind was more in other hands, but 
now the education of mind and heart is confided to one's 
own care, and there will be an account to give of how 
this has been performed. One's spirit is a precious 
diamond ; the rougher cutting work has been done by 
other hands, now one must undertake its further beautify- 
ing oneself, the polishing and grinding needs care and 
diligence and attention, and if neglected how shall we 
find an excuse with the great Master Jeweller, who had 
given the costly stone into our care ? Now a different 
place in life, in society, and in one's own family must be 
occupied; more is expected from one, many a little burden 
from which the child is exempt must now be taken up 
voluntarily. Then the past years, as memory brings the 
long panorama slowly, one picture after another, before 
one's view, how spotted, how defiled are even the fairest 
of these scenes ; every year having brought new guilt to 
be mourned over! But thankfulness must not be for- 
gotten amid the whirl of conflicting feelings and 
thoughts ; not drops but rich full measure of happiness 
filled my cup, at least through the greater part of this 
time ; and many blessings, which till now I have scarcely 
been aware of, ought to make me very grateful to Him, 
who does indeed let His sun shine on the most unthankful 
and evil. You experienced all this a year ago, and so 
will understand it. ... 
You will like to know the result of my last examina- 


tion. Only fancy, when the testimonies were given out 
at the Louisenschule, amidst heart beating and cheek 
flushing (especially mine), " Frances Havergal, Numero 
Ems/" broke the still silence of the awed assemblage. 
You understand German enough to know that ems 
means one. Proud I was, partly on account of being a 
daughter of Britain. I did not go to sleep till nearly 
midnight, for pure delight and satisfaction. I can't be 
satisfied without telling my friend the whole of the 
history. In the Louisenschule, when a girl has not 
learnt everything (as you know I did not), she receives 
merely her testimony but no number. This half-year, 
however, it seems that all the masters, in council assem- 
bled, were so very well pleased with the Engldnderin's 
(English girl's) papers and conduct that they agreed 
to break their rule for once, and honour me with 
Numero /., a thing which they had never done before ! 


The year 1853 was unique in some things. I was at 
school at Diisseldorf part of it ; and stood alone (as far 
as I know) among the no girls. I do not think there 
was one besides myself who cared for religion. This 
was very bracing. I felt I must try to walk worthy of my 
calling, for Christ's sake ; and it brought a new and very 
strong desire to bear witness for my Master, to adorn His 
doctrine, and to win others for Him. It made me more 
watchful and earnest than perhaps ever before, for I knew 
that any slip, in word or deed, would bring discredit on 
my profession. There was very much enmity to any 
profession, and I came in for more unkindness than 


would have been possible in an average English school, 
where I believe the tone is infinitely higher in every way 
and the supervision far more strict. Results were : as 
to my schoolfellows none, I do not know that I did any 
good among them ; though, towards the end of the time, 
several were certainly disarmed, and left off the small 
persecutions in which they had delighted, and were even 
affectionate to me. As to teachers, I had the reward 
of leaving with the best zeiigniss in the whole school, 
and with the highest praise and regret from every one. 
As to myself, it was a sort of nailing my colours to the 
mast. I had taken a higher standard than ever before, 
and had come out more boldly and decidedly on the 
Lord's side than I might have done for years under 
ordinary circumstances. Yet the tide ebbed again before 
many months had passed, and I remember longing to be 
able to say "O God, my heart is fixed," in bitter mourn- 
ing over its weakness and wavering. 

(Letter to E. C.) 


You will want to know, dear Elizabeth, what brings 
me here. Dear papa's eyes have been lately quite at a 
standstill as to improvement. He is now with mamma 
at Heidelberg, leaving me under the care of a good 
pastor and his wife. Obercassel is a pleasant village 
on the Rhine. We see the Drachenfels, with a peep 
into a narrow rock-shut-in valley, through which the 
Rhine flows from Coblenz. That you may glance into my 
room, I send herewith a Raphaelistic sketch thereof! 
Busts of Goethe and Schiller, shelves and table covered 



with German and French books, etc., etc. It will soon 
be dusk, and then I go down and take my place by 
the Pastor Schulze-Berge, who will read aloud, while 
the pleasant frau pastorin and^ Lottchen work or 
knit. Conversational interruptions, serious or amusing, 
will take their turn ; and Goethe, whose life is the 
subject, will be criticised in every light. Now, is not 
this very pleasant ? I like my quarters amazingly, and 
am very happy. I get up at five o'clock, breakfast at 
seven ; then I study for four hours. Of course my 
books are nearly all German, and I write abstracts ; I 
also give one hour to French literature. How I do enjoy 
myself when I get to the German poets and Universal 
History, which I dive into with avidity. If anything 
strikes me, I can always refer to the good pastor. . . 
... I have opportunities here of seeing a little of 
German high life. Close by is the " court " of the 
Count von Lippe, a family worthy of their rank 
and title. They live very simply, because they give 
more than half their income away. The dowager 
countess is a perfect pattern of a Christian noble 
lady, also her gentle suffering daughter, Mathilde. 
The count and his wife are now travelling in Italy. 
Then there is an adopted daughter, Fraulein von 
Clondt, whom I like very much. To her I go now 
regularly from 9 to 10 a.m., to read some German 
author, which is very nice for me and very kind of 
her. Besides that, I am constantly invited there to 
tea or for some excursions, so that I see many of 
the German aristocracy who are often there. One 
of the countess's daughters is a princess ; I should 
like her to come while I am here, as I have never 


spoken to a princess in my life ! I am often on the 
Rhine, and I always row a little, it ? s such fun ! . . . 
The German language is very easy to me, for except 
on Sundays, which I spend with the English clergy- 
man of Diisseldorf, I never hear or speak English. 
It is most absurd now when I begin to speak English ; 
I cannot get to think in it, and keep translating 
German expressions which seem so much more natural 
to me to use. I must go to Diisseldorf to visit 
Fraulein Quincke, whose especially beloved pupil I 
was. One of her friends, Herr Niessen, an artist, was 
to paint a portrait of me for her ; but he was ill and 
could not do it till the last day, and so he only 
sketched one.* Not many weeks more till I see you, 
hurrah ! 

(Pastor Schuhe-Berge to M. V. G. //.) 

September 24, 1879. 

It is a joy to myself to give you some information 
about your beloved sister Frances' progress in those 
studies in which I had the privilege of being her 
instructor. I had the greatest esteem for her while 
she was in our house, which only deepened each time 
I saw her again or heard of her work. She was 
committed to my care for her studies in 1853, at 
Obercassel. I instructed her in German composition, 

* This fact about the artist's sketch led to recent search for it. 
After many failures, Messrs. Elliott and Fry traced it by some artist 
friends. The portrait was first heard of at Cologne, then at Bonn, 
and finally found in Fraulein Quincke's possession there, and sent 
to London. 


literature, and history; I learned to appreciate her 
rich talents and mental powers, so that the lessons 
were more pleasure than work. She showed from the 
first such application, such rare talent, such depth ot 
comprehension, that I can only speak of her progress 
as extraordinary. She acquired such a knowledge of 
our most celebrated authors in a short time as even 
German ladies attain only after much longer study. 
They were precious moments when I unfolded to her 
the character of one of our noblest poets and thinkers, 
and let her have a glimpse into the splendour of his 
works. Stirred to the depths of her soul, she burst out 
enthusiastically, "Oh what mental giants, what gifted 
men, these Germans are !" What imprinted the stamp 
of nobility upon her whole being, and influenced all 
her opinions, was her true piety, and the deep reverence 
she had for her Lord and Saviour, whose example 
penetrated her young life through and through. 

Seldom have I been more touched than by the 
news of her early " going home," but she is with Him 
to whom her soul belonged, her Lord. With the 
united remembrance of Adelheid (her goddaughter) 
and all my family, 

Yours very sincerely, 


In December 1853 Fanny returned with her 
parents to England. Passing over many months, 
we come to the solemn and long anticipated 
time of her confirmation in Worcester Cathedral, 
by Dr. Henry Pepys, Bishop of Worcester. 



July 17, 1854. 

Now, on the evening of my confirmation day, I 
will look back upon it, and briefly endeavour to write 
some little record of it, for my own interest and 
profit in coming years. 

Satan has been busy with me all this day. I rose 
early; he then tried to persuade me to put off, little 
by little, my reading of the Bible and prayer, and to 
some extent succeeded in making me do other minor 
things first, and in preoccupying my mind. At length 
I knelt. I looked back on all my past life, and tried 
to thank God for all; but the praise was not so fer- 
vent as it should have been, nor the prayer so earnest, 
for a blessing not only on this day but on my future 
life ; and my soul was grieved at this coldness. But, 
ere I rose, my heart did seem a little warmer and Jesus 
a little nearer. . . . 

In the procession to Worcester Cathedral Ellen 
Wakeman was my companion. On reaching our seat 
very near the rails, I sunk on my knees, and for the 
first time to-day the thought of " whose I am " burst 
upon me, and I prayed " my God, oh, my own 
Father, Thou blessed Jesus my own Saviour, Thou 
Holy Spirit my oivn Comforter," and I stopped. It 
scarcely seemed right for me to use the language of 
such strong assurance as this, but yet I did not retract. 
The Litany only was chanted ; and, though my thoughts 
would fain have flown with each petition heavenward, 
yet every little thing seemed trebly a distraction, and the 
chanting was too often the subject of my thoughts. My 
heart beat very fast, and my breath almost seemed to 


stop, while the solemn question was being put by the 
bishop. Never I think did I feel my own weakness 
and utter helplessness so much. I hardly dared answer \ 
but " the Lord is my strength " was graciously suggested 
to me, and then the words quickly came from (I trust) 
my very heart ; " Lord, I cannot without Thee, but oh, 
with Thy almighty help, I DO." 

I believe that the solemnity of what had just been ut- 
tered, with its exceeding comprehensiveness, was realized 
by me as far as my mind could grasp it. I thought a 
good deal of the words " now unto Him that is able to 
keep you from falling " ; and that was my chief comfort. 
We were the first to go up, and I was the fourth or fifth 
on whom the bishop laid his hands. At first, the thought 
came as to who was kneeling next to me, but then the 
next moment I felt alone, unconscious of my fellow can- 
didates, of the many eyes fixed upon us, and the many 
thoughts of and prayers for me, alone with God and 
His chief minister. My feelings when his hands were 
placed on my head (and there was solemnity and earnest- 
ness in the very touch and manner) I cannot describe, 
they were too confused; but when the words "Defend, 
O Lord, this Thy child with Thy heavenly grace, that 
she may continue Thine for ever, and daily increase in 
Thy Holy Spirit more and more, until she come unto Thy 
everlasting kingdom," were solemnly pronounced, if ever 
my heart followed a prayer it did then, if ever it thrilled 
with earnest longing not unmixed with joy, it did at 
the words " Thine for ever/' But, as if in no feeling I 
might or could rest satisfied, there was still a longing 
" oh that I desired this yet more earnestly, that I be- 
lieved it yet more fully." We returned to our seats, and 


for some time I wept, why I hardly know, it was not grief, 
nor anxiety, nor exactly joy. About an hour and a 
quarter elapsed before all the candidates had been up to 
the rails ; part of the time being spent in meditation on 
the double transaction which was now sealed, and in 
thinking that I was now more than ever His j but I still 
rather sadly wished that I could feel more. Many portions 
of Scripture passed through my mind, particularly part 
of Romans viii. . . . Each time that the " Amen" was 
chanted in a more distant part of the cathedral, after the 
"Defend" had been pronounced, it seemed as though a 
choir of angels had come down to witness, and pour out 
from their pure spirits a deep and felt " Amen. 5 ' 

The bishop pronounced the closing blessing so very 
impressively that it was like soothing balm to me, and 
the thought came "why should I doubt that my soul will 
indeed receive the blessing which God's minister is thus- 
giving ? why did God appoint him thus to bless if it 
were to be a mere idle form ? May not His blessing 
accompany them, and . . . ' 

The paper was not finished, nor can any account 
of her first communion be found. In her manu- 
script book of poems she wrote : 


Oh ! " Thine for ever," what a blessed thing 
To be for ever His who died for me ! 

My Saviour, all my life Thy praise I '11 sing, 
Nor cease my song throughout eternity. 

In the Cathedral, July 17, 1854. 


She always kept the anniversary of her confirm- 
ation day. When at Celbridge (1856), her juvenile 
instructor in Hebrew (John H. Shaw) remembers 
on one of these occasions missing her at their hour 
for study, and that she spent most of the day in 
holy retirement. So lately as 1876 and 1877 she 
seems to have renewed her confirmation vow, 
in the following verses. 


Now, Lord, I give myself to Thee, 

I would be wholly Thine ; 
As Thou hast given Thyself to me, 

And Thou art wholly mine ; 
Oh take me, seal me as Thine own, 

Thine altogether Thine alone. 

(July 1876.) 

ONLY for Jesus ! Lord, keep it for ever, 

Sealed on the heart and engraved on the life ! 

Pulse of all gladness, and nerve of endeavour, 
Secret of rest, and the strength of our strife ! 

(July 1877 ) 

We now return to her home life after her con- 
firmation in 1854. 

She carefully kept up all her studies, her ab- 
stracts in German, French, and English showing the 
rapidity and variety of her reading. With her 
father's help she acquired sufficient knowledge of 


Greek to enjoy studying the New Testament. Her 
manuscript book contains twenty-five original 
German and English poems, beside poetical 
enigmas and charades, which she contributed to 
various pocket books under the name of "Sabrina" 
and "Zoide," and for which she often obtained 
prizes, the money thus gained being sent to the 
Church Missionary Society. 

OAKHAMPTON, May 14, 1855. 

Here I am in the height of enjoyment with my 
brother Frank. Little Miriam's absence is a drawback. 
My Evelyn is ill ; but she is very gentle and patient, 
indeed I never saw a sick child so utterly without fret- 
fulness. She is lovely, a perfect sunbeam, with golden 
wavy hair 

How rife everything in spring seems with beautiful 
emblems. I don't mean such as are already down in 
poetry books, but those wildly, lovely, intangible similes 
which flit across the mind, like the shadows of a flying 
bird ! 

Our dear father had again been to Grafrath in 
1855, and returned with his eyesight much better. 
Frances writes : 

Is not this glorious ? Such sudden improvement we 
hardly dared to hope for. We shall see papa in the reading 
desk on Sunday, where he has not been for nearly four 
years ! Oh, we are so happy. Papa and mamma came 
home on Saturday. We welcomed them in style, I 


made a triumphal arch over the hall-door with flowers 
and greenery, over the study door papa's crest in flowers, 
and over the dining-room a banner with the words in 
rosebuds and leaves, ' Welcome Home.' Oh it was so 
nice that dear papa was able to see it ; directly he came 
in he knelt down with us all, and offered such beautiful 
prayer or rather praise ! 



Ireland F. R. H. and the Irish girls Hebrew studies 
Grateful memory of Bible class^teachings "Nearer heaven ! " 
Chapters learnt " Touching the hem " Leaving St. 
Nicholas' The loving teacher Last page in Sunday Scholar's 
Register Welcome to Shareshill. 

AN Irish school-girl pens the following recollec- 
tions of meeting F. R. H. on her first visit 
to Celbridge Lodge, Ireland, May 1856. 

Five o'clock p.m. was the hour appointed for the 
elder girls from the school to arrive at the Lodge. Mrs. 
Shaw met us at the hall door with gentle words to each, 
and then brought us into the drawing-room, we being in 
a great state of delight at the thought of seeing " the little 
English lady." In a few seconds Miss Frances, carol- 
ling like a bird, flashed into the room ! Flashed ! yes, I 
say the word advisedly, flashed in like a burst of sunshine, 
like a hillside breeze, and stood before us, her fair sunny 
curls falling round her shoulders, her bright eyes dancing, 
and her fresh sweet voice ringing through the room. I 
shall never forget that afternoon, never ! I sat perfectly 
spellbound as she sang chant and hymn with marvellous 
sweetness, and then played two or three pieces of 
Handel, which thrilled me through and through. She 


finished with singing her father's tune (Hobah) to " The 
Church of our fathers." She shook hands with each, and 
said with a merry laugh : " the next time I come to 
Ireland I think we must get up a little singing class, and 
then you know you must all sing with me !" 

As we walked home down the shady avenue one and 
another said : " Oh, isn't she lovely ? and doesn't she 
sing like a born angel !" "I love her, I do; and I'd 
follow her every step of the way back to England if I 
could." " Oh, she's a real Colleen Bawn ! " 

Another of the class felt, all the time, that there must 
be the music of God's own love in that fair singer's 
heart, and that so there was joy in her face, joy in her 
words, joy in her ways. And the secret cry went up from 
that young Irish heart : " Lord, teach me, even me, to 
know and love Thee too." 

On her next visit to Ireland the singing class 
was formed. An invalid remembers at this time 
her "tender lovingkindness in lonely days of 
sorrow and suffering. It was Miss Frances who 
first taught me Greek, which was such an interest 
and help to me, and afterwards she gave me 
Hebrew lessons too. Truly can I say, 'I thank my 
God on every remembrance of thee !'" 

Frances much enjoyed the study of Hebrew 
this summer with J. H. S. During a pleasant 
expedition through county Wicklow one of our 
party was a learned Hebrew scholar. It rather 
discomfited our good brother-in-law that Frances' 


attention seemed deeper in investigating his 
knowledge of Hebrew psalms and grammar than 
in the surrounding geography of glens and passes. 
One other incident of her Irish visits was her 
attendance at a Bible class, conducted by the 
Rev. M. J. Bickerstaffe (now Vicar of Cookley). 
Side by side with the tiniest children Frances 
took her seat, and long afterwards referred to 
the pleasure and benefit of his instructions. 

September 20, 1869. 

. . . . I am so sorry not to be well enough to 
hear you preach this morning. Your sermons and 
Bible classes in 1865 were more real help to me than 
any I ever heard. I always look gratefully back to 
them as having done more to open my eyes to the 
" wondrous things " in God's word than any other human 

Yours affectionately and gratefully. 

The year 1858 had not much incident. She 
mentions her pleasure in listening to her father's 
Lent lectures on the Queen of Sheba, and tells 

her friend E : "the lectures are beautiful ; you 

could not form an idea of their fulness and fresh- 
ness without hearing them. These typical sermons 
are what papa specially excels in ! " She writes of 

gleams and glimpses, but oh to be filled with joy 

62 MEMORIALS OF F. X. //. 

and the Holy Ghost ! Oh, why cannot I trust Him fully ? 
How very sweet those words are, " I write unto you, little 
children, because your sins are forgiven you for His 
name's sake." They have comforted me, for I am but 
a little child, only a babe in the spiritual life, and this 
seems so tenderly addressed to such. But oh that I 
could grow up in Him ! Sometimes I have felt almost 
happy in trying to realize what you write to me about, 
and at times I have gone on praying and pouring out all 
to Him, till time seemed forgotten, and I could scarcely 
rise and come back to earthly things. Once I had a 
strange thrill of joy at a passing, and may-be foolish, 
thought. You know how suffering I have been. Well, 
one evening, passing the looking-glass in the twilight, I 
caught sight of myself rather flushed, and I thought it 
looked like the hectic spot that foretells mortal disease. 
I know I am not in the remotest degree consumptive, 
but for an instant I thought it might be so. Oh the 
extraordinary thrill of delight the idea brought, that 
possibly I might be nearer heaven than I thought ! 
It was almost ecstatic gladness ; and then a chill of 
disappointment came when my common sense told me it 
could not be so ! But, in whatever way or time death 
comes to either of us, may our lamps be trimmed and 
burning. . . . 

From this time her letters tell of 

" The tremulous gleams of early days, 
The first faint thrills of love and praise, 
Vibrating fitfully/' 

She seems to have read and learned the Scrip- 


tures systematically with her friend E. C. In 
this I had joined them, and remember that in 
our country walks Frances repeated alternate 
verses with me. She knew the whole of the 
Gospels, Epistles, Revelation, the Psalms, and 
Isaiah, and the Minor Prophets she learnt in 
later years. At this time she was taking the 
titles of Christ for her daily searchings and re- 
marks. "Yesterday I took Christ our Advocate, 
it is one of the sweet titles. Alpha and Omega 
will be a very suitable one for Sunday. I like to 
think about the Lord Jesus as He is in Himself, 
not only in relation to myself." 

Incidental traces of holy walking as well as holy 
writing come out naturally ; e.g. t " I said something 
yesterday, dear Elizabeth, which I much regret, 
though thoughtlessly and not intentionally uttered. 

I thought, after, it seemed an imputation upon ; 

the faintest impression of which I would remove at 
once from your mind. Perhaps you did not notice 
it ; but I did, and grieved that I said it." Her 
home life was beautiful, though often only One 
knew the self-restraint and the self-denial of actions, 
trivial in themselves, but springing from the desire 
to please God. I remember her refusing to go 
with me for a pleasant visit to Oakhampton, 
because she would not leave our dear mother 
alone, adding " if I can only go errands it will be 
of some use." 

64 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

(To E. C) 


As time passes on, dear Elizabeth, so does my hope 
strengthen that I really took a step onward when with 
you in the spring. It was then that (like the woman 
in the press) I was enabled to come and touch the 
hem of His garment. It was then that the truth made 
me free. I have lost that weary bondage of doubt, and 
almost despair, which chained me for so many years. I 
have the same sins and temptations as before, and I do 
not strive against them more than before, and it is often 
just as hard work. But, whereas I could not see why 
I should be saved, I now cannot see why I should not 
be saved if Christ died for all. On that word I take my 
stand and rest there. I still wait for the hour when I 
believe He will reveal Himself to me more directly ; but 
it is the quiet waiting of present trust, not the restless 
waiting of anxiety and danger. His death is really my 
confidence, and I have tasted the sweetness of one new 
thing, praise \ 

In 1860 our father resigned the living of St. 
Nicholas, but not before the bishop had kindly 
promised that his successor should be his much 
esteemed curate and friend, the Rev. Charles 

Many parting gifts from the parishioners flowed 
in, both for the Rector and his wife, whose organ- 
izing powers and activity had much endeared her 
to the parish. A most troublesome class of adult 
boys was quite a trophy of what loving words and 


gentle rule could effect, and their parting address 
and present to her came with more costly gifts. 
One of her class became a Scripture reader, an- 
other an ordained minister of our Church, and all 
brought forth good fruit in after years. 

Frances writes to E. C. : 

What could be more conducive to spiritual improve- 
ment than what God has sent me lately, besides innu- 
merable mercies, extra gratifications in many ways ; all 
these beautiful testimonials to my precious papa, and 
lovely ones to dear mamma, and my own undeserved 
share in them, and my success in writing) for I have 
just received a formal application from the Editor of 
Good Words for poetical contributions). * On the other 
hand I have just enough bodily infirmity to keep me 
mindful and humble. Gold watches for dear Maria and 
myself came yesterday. The inscriptions are both the 
same inside the cases : " From the parishioners of St. 
Nicholas, Worcester, March 1860." The teachers and 
children of the Sunday School have also sent us books, 
nicely chosen by Mr. Bullock. One special little token 
from my own children I shall ever treasure. 

* See "A Line Left Out," in Appendix, page 343. Her well 
known hymn, "I gave My life for tbee," first appeared in Good 
Words. It was written in Germany, 1858. She had come in 
weary, and sat down opposite a picture with this motto. At once 
the lines flashed upon her, and she wrote them in pencil on a scrap 
of paper. Reading them over, they did not satisfy her. She 
tossed them into the fire, but they fell out untouched ! Showing 
them some months after to her father, he encouraged her to preserve 
them, and wrote the tune " Baca " specially for them. 



Her Sunday School work was a loved employ- 
ment. In the neatly kept register, entitled " My 
Sunday Scholars, from 1846 to i86o/ ; each child's 
birthday, entrance date, occurrences in their home, 
general impressions of their character, and sub- 
sequent events in their life, are all carefully noted, 
While absent for a few weeks, Frances writes to 
them, and says : " My dear children have kept up 
quite a correspondence with me, and printing all 
my answers is quite a work of time and patience, 
but one I do not grudge. Some of their letters are 
very sweet and encouraging, and all are at least 
affectionate and interesting. At one time I had 
desperately uphill work, for mine was then the 
worst class in the school, and, out of fourteen, 
only a small minority were even hopeful. Sunday 
after Sunday I absolutely cry about them ! Still, 
for some I thank God and take courage." 

\The last page.} 

I did not think when I ruled this page that it would 
be unfilled. Yet so it is, and the last of my dear second 
class fills its first space. He who appointeth the bounds 
of our habitation has, in manifest providence, removed 
our own after fifteen years' sojourn. And it will probably 
be some time ere I again have a regular class to care 
for, as other claims will fill my Sunday hours. 


Among all my St. Nicholas memories, none will be 
fonder or deeper than my class. I cannot tell any one 
how I loved them, I should hardly be believed ; no one 
in the parish, either rich or poor, called forth the same 
love that they did. Neither could I tell how bitter and 
grievous any misbehaviour among them was to me, no 
one knows the tears they have cost me ; and because 
no one guessed at the depth of either the love or the 
sorrow, I had but little sympathy under disappointments 
with them. I am wrong in one thing I know, but can- 
not help it : the feeling that, though I may have a very 
sincere love and interest in other children, yet I should 
never be able to give any future class the same intensity 
of affection which these have won and some of them 
have reciprocated. 

It has been to my own soul a means of grace. Often, 
when cold and lifeless in prayer, my nightly intercession 
for them has unsealed the frozen fountain, and the bless- 
ings sought for them seemed to fall on myself. 

Often and often have my own words to them been as 
a message to myself of warning or peace. My only 
regret is that I did not spend more time in preparing 
my lessons for them, not more on their account than my 
own, for seldom have Bible truths seemed to reach and 
touch me more than when seeking to arrange and 
simplify them for my children. Therefore, I thank God 
that these children have been entrusted to me ! 

For some time past several of them have come to me, 
once a week, for separate reading and prayer. These 
times I have enjoyed very much. I rather dissuaded than 
otherwise, unless any real desire after salvation was mani- 
fested; and I do think that this was so far effectual 


that nearly all of those who did come were, at least at the 
time, truly in earnest on the great question. I mark * 
the regular, X the occasional comers. Nearly t\vo 
years have already passed since they were " my children," 
and I cannot say that my love and interest have yet 
diminished. I went to Oakhampton at Midsummer 
1859, and on my return relinquished them with great 
secret regret for another class. I have one token of 
their love ; given me, not by the then existing " 2nd 
class," but by those of both ist and 2nd who were 
" my children." This I treasure for their sakes, yet 
the remembrance of their love is more than its outward 

I trust it has been true bread which I have cast upon 
these waters ; my Saviour knows, and He only, my 
earnest longings that these little ones should be His 
own. I think I am quite content now that others should 
see the fruit, so that it be but truly borne, that others 
should enter into my feeble and wanting labours. But, 
in dear papa's words, I do most fervently pray, 

" May all whose names are written here 
In the Lamb's Book of Life appear !" 

F. R. H., March 1860. 

Leaving St, Nicholas was to Frances a strange 
mixture of sorrow and thankfulness, " because I do 
care more for papa and his health than for any- 
thing else in all the whole world ! But it is not 
a trifle to leave the many, rich and poor, with 
whom one has necessarily become more or less 


entwined in a way which none but a clergyman's 
family can. Yet I hope dear papa will find com- 
parative rest and strength in consequence, by going 
to the little country parish of Shareshill. Papa is 
so very much to me, so much more than all besides ! 
He has been very ill again, and this puts an 
end to all ideas of farewell sermons or visits. It 
is wonderfully thrilling to see him in illness, such 
utter peacefulness, such grand conceptions of God's 
absolute sovereignty in everything, such quiet re- 
joicing in His will, be it what it may ; such shining 
trust in Him, in and for everything, personal or 

The removal to Shareshill proved beneficial, 
and the welcome of the parishioners was pleasing 
and encouraging. Frances writes : " The first step, 
in the way of improvement at Shareshill, has been 
to abolish the Sunday post ; to obtain this, the 
inhabitants were, as required, unanimous." This 
subject was deeply felt by her, ever sympathising, 
as she did, with the men deprived of their Sun- 
day rest ; and she often grieved that some of her 
Christian friends did not take it up. Among the 
subjects upon which she intended writing, when 
called home in 1879, was "Sunday Postal Burdens." 
And, in a letter the same year, she writes : " I do 
think we Church of England are more conscientious 
about Sunday post than some others. I was de- 


lighted when visiting *B. M.' to see with the 
notice of post times (in the hall) ' no delivery or 
despatch on Sunday.' 'No manner of work' must 
include postal delivery, and it is not right to ignore 
it ; it grieves me when some double-first-class 
Christians do not consider the subject." 


(1861 1869.) 

Oakhampton A new power Musical gifts Deep borings- 
Subjects for prayer Killer's commendation Remarkable 
power of harmonizing Welcome to Winterdyne Stormy 
petrelism Sent empty away Calmer waters Joining 
Young Women's Christian Association London "Guess 
my birthday treat ! " Signer Randegger Epitome of his 
first singing lesson New home at Leamington How poems 
came My Evelyn ! " The Two Rings "Weary and sad 
First sight of Alpine mountains. 

IN February 1861, by the wish of her sister and 
her brother-in-law Henry Crane, Frances under- 
took the instruction of her two youngest nieces, 
and made Oakhampton her second home. Her 
father approved of this plan, because he thought it 
would prevent her from pursuing the severe 
studies so prejudicial to her health. The lesson 
hours were very short, owing to the temperament 
of both teacher and pupils, and she had many and 
long changes of scene, at the seaside, at home and 
abroad. She entered with zest into the recrea- 
tions of her young companions, riding and scramb- 
ling, swimming and skating, croquet and chess, 
each in its turn, and excelled in them all. Her 


needlework was exquisite, from the often de- 
spised darning to the most delicate lace work 
and embroidery. How she redeemed her time 
these few lines will prove : " Stirring you up, 
dearie, to mental improvement is no new subject 
to me. I know, by my own teaching days, how 
very much might be learnt in all the odds and 
ends of time, how (e.g.) . I learnt all the Italian 
verbs while my nieces were washing their hands 
for dinner after our walk, because I could be ready 
in five minutes less time than they could." The 
faithful old nurse well remembers "vexing over 
Miss Frances's hard studying, and that she found 
her at those Latin books long before breakfast." 

Her one great object was the education of her 
nieces for eternity, not for time only ; and not 
merely religious knowledge, but the realities of 
faith and holy living, were dwelt upon. 

From the close of her Autobiography, darkness 
seems often to have clouded her path. From time 
to time she writes : 

I had hoped that a kind of table-land had been reached 
in my journey, where I might walk awhile in the light, 
without the weary succession of rock and hollow, crag 
and morass, stumbling and striving ; but I seem borne 
back into all the old difficulties of the way, with many 
sin-made aggravations. I think the great root of all my 
trouble and alienation is that I do not now make an un- 


reserved surrender of myself to God ; and until this is 
done I shall know no peace. I am sure of it. I have so 
much to regret : a greater dread of the opinion of worldly 
friends, a loving of the world, and proportionate cooling 
in heavenly desire and love. A power utterly new ana 
unexpected was given me [singing and composition of 
music], and rejoicing in this I forgot the Giver, and 
found such delight in this that other things paled before 
it. It need not have been so ; and, in better moments, 
I prayed that if it were indeed hindering me the gift of 
song might be withdrawn. And now that through my 
ill health it is so, and that the pleasure of public applause 
when singing in the Philharmonic concerts is not again 
to exercise its delicious delusion, I do thank Him who 
heard my prayer. But I often pray in the dark, as it 
were, and feel no response from above. Is this to test 
me? Oh that I may be preserved from giving up in 
despair, and yielding, as I so often do, to the floodtide 

I want to make the most of my life and to do the best 
with it, but here I feel my desires and motives need 
much purifying ; for, even where all would sound fair 
enough in words, an element of self, of lurking pride, may 
be detected. Oh, that He would indeed purify me and 
make me white at any cost ! No one professing to be a 
Christian at all could possibly have had a more cloudy, 
fearing, doubting, sinning, and wandering heart history 
than mine has been through many years. 

The first part of this year (1865) I was verv poorly, 
and on the old regime of having to give up everything, 
Sunday school and Saturday evening class, visiting, 


music, etc. It was very trying to me, specially so 
because I had rather built upon being stronger, and 
several points of interest had arisen which made me feel 
the more being shut off from all. But it was very good 
for me ; I was able to feel thankful for it, and to be glad 
that God had taken me in hand as it were. I do not 
think I would have chosen otherwise than as He 
ordered it for me ; but it seems as if my spiritual life 
would never go without weights, and I dread needing 
more discipline. 

Deep borings, even down into darksome depths, 
often precede the supply of unfailing springs of 
refreshing water. Thus my dear sister knew much 
of doubt and gloom, so that she might be able to 
comfort others and reveal to them God's deep 
teachings in the darkness. Then, when she after- 
wards found such joy in the wells of salvation, she 
drew forth these teachings, refreshing other weary 
and thirsty ones with her words of sympathy both 
in poetry and prose. 

It may be useful to copy the paper kept in her 
Bible, showing how she arranged the subjects of 
her prayers. 

For daily Morning Prayer. 

Watchfulness. Guard over temper. Consistency. 
Faithfulness to opportunities. For the Holy Spirit. For 
a vivid love to Christ. 


Mid- day Prayer. 

Earnestness of spirit in desire, in prayer, and in all 
work. Faith, hope, love. 

Evening Prayer. 

Forgiveness. To see my sinfulness in its true light. 
Growth in grace. Against morning sleepiness as hind- 
rance to time for prayer. 

The initials of all her relatives and friends are 
distributed to each day, and various items of inter- 
cession added, such as : 

That my life may be laid out to the best advantage as 
to God's glory and others' good. For the Church 
Missionary Society and Zenana work. For success and 
usefulness with my subscribers. For the poor whom I 
visit. For the Irish Society. Guidance and (if it is 
God's will) success as to music. For my Sunday school 
class. For the servants. 

In the winter of 1865-6 Frances revisited her 
German friends, and also resided some time with 
her parents at Bonn. 

Having composed many songs, she was anxious 
for some verdict on their merit. The following 
letter describes her interview with Hiller, the 
German musician. 

CLAPTON SQUARE, February i, 1866. 

I must take up my history where I left off, and give you 
the Cologne story at last. To begin at the beginning, 


Elizabeth C. told the Schulzeberges of my composing, 
and so they were curious about it and wanted me to go 
to the Musical Academy of Cologne. As I declared 
that out of the question, they hoped I would go to Ferdi- 
nand Hiller, whom they consider the greatest living 
composer and authority, and show him my songs. I 
shrunk from this because I expected nothing but utter 
quenching from such a man ; still I thought that after all 
I might as well know the worst, and if he thought scorn 
of all I had done, that would decide me to waste no 
more time over it ; while, if I got a favourable verdict, it 
ever opportunity should arise of prosecuting the study of 
composition, I should do so with a clearer conscience 
and better hopes. To my utter amazement, papa quite 
urged me to go, and a pleasant mirage of a possible 
musical term at Cologne screwed my courage up to 
writing to Hiller, who replied kindly, and made an 
appointment with me. I went with mamma, such a 
queer way among the Rhine wharfs, and through narrow 
streets scarcely wide enough for the droschky to pass, till 
we emerged in a more open part, and found Hiller's 
abode. He is a small elderly man, quiet in manner, 
of handsome and peculiar Jewish physiognomy (he is a 
Jew), with a forehead remarkably like papa's, and terribly 
clever looking eyes ; I think one would single him out as 
a genius among any number. He was in a double room 
full of musical litter, with a handsome grand piano in the 
middle. He received us very politely, and asked me a 
few questions (he is a man of few words), and then took 
my book of songs and sat down to read it through, 
giving me a volume of poetry to amuse myself with mean- 
while. You may imagine I didn't read much ! He made 

or rmm 

T7NIVE.: - 


no remark till he was about three quarters through, when 
he turned and said : " What instruction have you had ? " 
I told him of Hatherley's having corrected my first six 
songs, and that I had a musical father to whom I occa- 
sionally referred difficult points, and with whom I had 
musical talk in general. " I do not care anything about 
that," said he, "I mean what regular musical course 
have you gone through, and under what professor?" I 
told him I had done nothing of the sort. He looked 
very hard at me, as if to see if I was telling the truth, 
and then turned back to my music, saying, " In that case 
I find this very remarkable ! " When he had finished he 
delivered his verdict, the worst part first. He said my 
melodies bore the stamp of talent, not of genius. " In 
the early works of great composers," he said, "one comes 
across things that startle and strike you ; ideas so utterly 
fresh and novel that you feel there is great creative 
power. I do not find this in your melodies ; they are 
not bad ; on the contrary I find them very pleasing and 
many really very good, but they are thoroughly English 
in character and type ; I do not consider that English 
melodies rank highest. But, as for your harmonies, I must 
say 1 am astonished. It is something singular to find 
such grasp of the subject, such power of harmonization, 
except where there has been long and thorough study 
and instruction; here I can give almost unlimited praise.' 
I told him my question was (for I thought I would take 
a high standard at once) not, had I talent enough to 
make music a mere pleasure to myself and my friends ? 
but had I enough to make it worth while to devote my- 
self to music as a serious thing, as a life work ? Was there 
promise enough to make it an advisable investment ot 


my life, in case I wished to do so ? He said : "Sincerely 
and unhesitatingly I can say that you have" I remarked 
how much I should like to study at Cologne, and under 
himself. He said he should like to have the training of 
me; but, if distance were a difficulty, there were reliable 
men in London, and he would recommend his friend 
Macfarren. But I was to go to no second-rate man, that 
would be simply no use to me ; I could only gain the 
polish and " form " which my work wanted, from some 
one really first-rate. He recommended me a book on 
harmony (which I procured in Cologne), and then wrote 
a few lines to papa, saying he had found a good deal of 
musical talent in my compositions, and that " but a short 
time would be sufficient to place me in a state to give 
a good form to the musical ideas with which I was 
gifted." I did not expect all this ; and though I shall not 
do anything at present, it is pleasant to know I have 
a talent, which I may some day develop to some pur- 
pose, for I never quite believed what Dr. Marshall said 
about it, and I thought, if I had the talent he said I 
had, I should fa/ cleverer, somehow, than I do. Papa is 
vexed because when Hiller asked " Spielen sie gut ? " 
(do you play well?) I replied simply "No, not well," 
because I thought he would judge by a professional 
standard. Papa says I ought to have then offered to 
play one of my things, but I had not the pluck or the 
presence of mind. ... I supposed you would like to 
hear all about Hiller, else it seems conceited to have 
written so much. 

Now for the home journey to Lille and a pleasant 

visit to Mons. and Madame V 's. Their country 

house is about a mile out of the town. It was 


pleasant to meet old friends, and it is quite fascinating to 
get, also, a spice of fresh characters and life. Next morn- 
ing Mons. V. took me about the lower rooms, and gave 
me an amusing description of Lille life. He is a sort of 
chieftain of the clan, which consists of about 270 nephews 
and nieces, and their children. He keeps them all in 
order. " On a grand peur de mon oncle Emile," says he ; 
" if I see what I do not like I lecture them de maniere 
qu'on s'en souviendra." But, on the other hand, " mon 
oncle Emile " is rich, and can be very gracious, and is 
worth keeping on good terms with. Every Sunday there 
are thirty-eight who " have the right " to dine with him, 
and every Wednesday evening he receives a wider circle 
in a large galerie, glass above and all round, like an 
immense enclosed verandah, so pretty with creepers and 
fancy plants all about. It overlooks his orangery and 
greenhouses, ornamental water with two bridges, pretty 
trees, a most charming view altogether. . . . 

Such a good crossing from Calais ; the sea quite glassy ! 
I leaned over the side and watched the foam and curl 
of the water behind the paddles, and wrote verses 
[" Travelling Thoughts ; '] in my account book. I was 
able to see the white cliffs of Dover for the first time, 
and was almost sorry to leave the boat. . . . 

Your loving sister. 

It may not be out of place here to mention 
that such was the strength of her musical memory, 
that she would play through Handel, much of 
Beethoven and Mendelssohn, without any notes. 
A pupil of Beethoven thought her rendering of the 


Moonlight Sonata perfect ; her touch was instinct 
with soul, as also was her singing. 

During her stay at Oakhampton her brother-in- 
law engaged Dr. Wm. Marshall to give her singing 
lessons ; and she attended the meetings of the 
Philharmonic Society at Kidderminster, of which 
he was the conductor. The practice of sacred music 
was an extreme gratification to her, and she soon 
became a valued solo singer. Her rendering of 
Mendelssohn's " Woe unto them," " But the Lord 
is mindful of His own," are remembered as 
peculiarly effective, though it was in Handel's 
music that she more particularly delighted. 

The ease with which Frances constantly versi- 
fied family events is shown in the following lines, 
written when Mr. and Mrs. Shaw left Ireland, for 
their English home at Winterdyne. 


(For December itfh, 1866.) 

FRANCIE and Willie, welcome to you ! 

Alfred and Alice, welcome too ! 
To an English home and English love 
Welcome each little Irish dove : 
Never again we hope to be 
Kept apart by an angry sea. 
A thousand welcomes, O darlings mine, 

When we see you at Winterdyne. 


Welcome all to a warm new nest, 

Just the place for our doves to rest, 
Through the oaks and beeches looking down 
On the winding valley and quaint old town, 
Where ivy green on the red rock grows, 
And silvery Severn swiftly flows, 
With an extra sparkle and glitter and shine 

Under the woods of Winterdyne. 
On a quiet evening in lovely spring, 

In the tall old elms the nightingales sing ; 
Under the forest in twilight grey 
I have heard them more than a mile away, 
Sweeter and louder and far more clear 
Than any thrush you ever did hear ; 
Perhaps when the evenings grow long and fine 

They will sing to you in Winterdyne. 
Little to sadden, and nothing to fear; 

Priest, and Fenian, never come here ; 
Only the sound of the Protestant bells 
Up from the valley pleasantly swells, 
And a beautiful arch, to church, is made 
Under the sycamore avenue's shade ; 
You pass where its arching boughs entwine, 

Out of the gates of Winterdyne. 
Welcome to merry old England ! And yet 
We know that old Ireland you will not forget ; 
Many a thought and prayer will fly 
Over the mountains of Wales, so high, 
Over the forest and over the sea, 
To the home which no longer yours must be. 
But farewells are over, O darlings mine, 
: Now it is Welcome to Winterdyne ! 


82 MEMORIALS OF F. A\ //. 

Her own words will continue the record of her 
inner life in the year 1866. 

Few things have a more salutary effect upon me than 
reading secular biographies. For, successful or unsuc- 
cessful alike, " vanity of vanities " seems the truest 
characteristic of every life not devoted to the very 
highest aim. " Queens of Society," " Autobiography of 
Louis Spohr," and others, have left this feeling strongly 
upon me, and have been auxiliary in making me wish 
that my life may be laid out for Him, whose it is by 
right. Oh, that He may make me a vessel sanctified and 
meet for the Master's use ! I look at trial and training 
of every kind in this light, not its effect upon oneself 
for oneself, but in its gradual fating of me to do the 
Master's work. So, in very painful spiritual darkness or 
conflict, it has already comforted me to think that God 
might be leading me through strange dark ways, so that 
I might afterward be His messenger to some of His 
children in similar distress. My ill health this summer 
has been very trying to me. I am held back from 
much I wanted to do in every way, and have had to 
lay poetizing aside. And yet such open doors seemed 
set before me. Perhaps this check is sent that I may 
consecrate what I do more entirely. I have a curious 
vivid sense, not merely of my verse faculty in general 
being given me, but also of every separate poem or 
hymn, nay every line, being given. It is peculiarly 
pleasant thus to take it as a direct gift, not a matter 
of effort, but purely involuntarily. . . . 

I suppose that God's crosses are often made of most 
unexpected and strange material. Perhaps trial must 


be felt keenly, or it would not be powerful enough 
as a medicine in the hands of our beloved Healer ; 
and I think it has been a medicine to me latterly. 
You may wonder that I write thus, when I was so merry 

with you at L ; but, among the best gifts of God to 

me, I count a certain stormy petrelism of nature, which 
seems to enable me to skim any waves when I am not 
actually under them. I have an elasticity which often 
makes me wonder at myself, a power of throwing myself 
into any present interest or enjoyment, though the 
sorrow is only suspended not removed. 

But once I seemed permitted to suffer mentally in an 
unmitigated sort of way, which I never knew before. 
Perhaps to teach me how to feel for others who have 
not that stormy petrelism which bears me through most 
things. For that forsook me utterly, and I felt crushed 
and forsaken of all or any help or cheer, to an extent I 
never felt before. 

I wish I rejoiced more, not only on my own account, 
but if I may so say, on His, for surely I should praise 
Him more by both lip and life. Mine has been such a 
shady Christian life, yet/' He led them forth by the right 
way " must somehow be true here, though I don't see 
how. I ought to make one exception ; I have learned a 
. real sympathy with others walking in darkness, and some- 
times it has seemed to help me to help them. 

I send you this text, Matthew xxv. 40, and I want 
you to let it brighten all your work ; but one can never 
come to the end of the graciousness of it. Some 
months ago, I called on one of my dear old women in 
Worcester. She talked of the King ; and, coming away, 
I felt impelled to give her something which I had not 

84 MEMORIALS OF F. A\ //. 

intended for her, and knew I could not afford without a 
trifling self-denial. She took it silently, paused, and then 
said, with a simple sweet solemnity, "Inasmuch !" Well, 
ever since I have revelled in that wonderful "Inas- 
much." Only think of His really considering all our 
poor little services as done unto Him ! And this is quite 
apart from what we consider success or results. It is 
not only spiritual ministrations, but all other little kind- 
nesses. How one would have liked to have been one 
of the women who ministered unto Him, but it is so 
marvellously gracious of Him to give you and me, to wit, 
opportunities of doing what He considers the same thing. 
... You may think it strange, but I have long 
almost shrunk from going to the sacrament, dreading the 
being sent empty away. Oh, if He would but grant 
me my request just once that I might "taste and see !" 
Communion Sundays are so often my saddest days ; 
great tension of feeling, longing unsatisfied desire, and 
sorrowful pleading, followed by the reaction of miserable 
apathy. It is only one or two who know about my 
clouds, though many know what I believe about sunshine. 
. . . Sunday is over. " Sent empty away." Just 
empty, no other word seems to express it; not full of 
anything. I would rather even have been full of distress 
than thus empty. Not one sweet verse or comforting 
thought seemed given me. All the beautiful service 
seemed to pass through the ear and never reach my 
heart. Oh, if He would only show me " wherefore He 
contendeth with me." It has brought me to the terrible 
old feeling, " how can I be one of His sheep if I never 
hear the Shepherd's voice, if He never meets me where 
He meets others ? " 

EXTRACTS: 1867. 85 

Her nieces Evelyn and Constance went to 
school in 1866-7 > anc l in consequence, Frances 
then left Oakhampton, and always afterwards 
resided at home. 

(From F. R. H.'s manuscript papers, May 1867.) 

It seems as if the Lord had led me into a calmer 
and more equable frame of mind ; not joy, but peace. 
And texts light up to me very pleasantly sometimes. 
Why should I not take for granted all I find in the 
Bible ? why should I hesitate and tremble over it, as I 
have been doing for years ? I have been appropriating 
all the promises with a calm sort of twilight happiness, 
waiting for a clearer light to show me their full beauty 
and value. 

It does seem to me that " free grace " does not 
mean there is nothing on our side. We may phrase 
it "coming," " accepting," "believing," "touching the 
hem " ; but there is something which these words repre- 
sent, which is necessary to salvation; and then comes 
the question, have / this condition ? Yet as soon as 1 
in any form comes in, there is shadow upon the light. 
Still, this shadow need not fall when the eye is fixed 
upon Christ as the Substitute, the Lamb slain ; then all 
is clear. But it is in reading, when one's heart leaps at 
some precious promise made to the children of God, 
that a cold check comes, " am I one of them ? what is 
my title?" Answer, "Ye are all the children of God by 
faith in Jesus Christ." Have I faith? Once introduce 
that 7, and you get bewildered between faith and feeling. 


When I go on and grapple with the difficulty, it 
comes to this. As far as I know, I have come to Jesus, 
not once but many times. I have knelt, and literally 
prostrated myself before Him, and told Him all, that I 
have no other hope but what His written word says He 
did and said, that I know it is true, that the salvation it 
tells of is just what I want and all I want, and that my 
heart goes out to it, and that I do accept it ; that I do 
not fully grasp it, but I cling to it ; that I want to be 
His only and entirely, now and for ever. 

(T/ie last entry.) 

I have been so happy lately, and the words " Thou 
hast put gladness in my heart " I can use, as true of 
my own case ; especially as to one point, I am sure 
now (and I never was before) that I do love God. I 
love Him distinctly, positively ; and I think I have loved 
Him more and longer than I thought, only I dared not 
own it to myself. Oh that I loved Him more and 
more ! How I abhor myself for having loved, for loving, 
so little. 

In the autumn of 1867 she enjoyed a visit to 
the lakes with her former schoolfellow, J. H. E., 
and J. T., a charming poetess. Frances writes : 
" I had every possible variety of effects, from 
grey lake mists and rain to silver and gold, and 
rosy transparent purple and soft dreamy hazes, 
and marvellous clearness and veilings and unveil- 
ings, and everything that is lovely except snow." 


(F. R. H. to Miss Clara Gedge, September 1867.) 

. . . I thank you very specially for having asked 
me to join the Young Women's Christian Association. 
On rny side it will be an extra strong link ; because, 
whatever help and blessing for myself and others I 
may find through it, I shall not forget that I owe 
my membership to you. I have written the date of 
my joining in the cover of my Bible, as a continual 
reminder (if any could be needed) of such a privilege ; 
and under it the names of all whom I know to 
be members, yours of course standing first. How 
little we know each other's need ! How often the text 
we want to send must be a bow drawn at a venture! 
Yet again, how alike are our needs, and how pleasant 
to know that we may ask Him, to whom each heart is 
open, to guide us to choose the right gem from the 
precious mine of His word ! I do not feel inclined to 
send you anything out of the way to-day, dear Clara, but 
just one of the dear old rock-texts, which are always 
something to stand upon, and this one especially so for 
your birthday : "He hath said, I will never leave thee 
nor forsake thee." For this embraces all our years ; if 
true at all, it has been so all along, even when we felt far 
off. He was near when we felt alone ; He was surely, 
though hidden, beside us. ... 

The date on the Y. W. C. A. card of member- 
ship is September 23, 1867; No. 2181. This 
Association proved a lifelong rivet ; and manifold 
were her efforts, to link others in its helpful 


It is impossible to give even an idea of her 
efforts for many societies. Just at this time, she 
was wishful to give lessons in singing, for the 
Church Missionary Society ; and her steady work 
in collecting for it never ceased. The Jews', the 
Church Pastoral-Aid, and the Bible Society were 
alike valued. Skilfully did she induce others to 
take an interest in them ; and in the February 
of her last winter (1879), one bitter night, she 
headed a number of Welsh neighbours and lads 
to go, for the first time in their lives, to a Bible 
Society meeting at the Mumbles. 

We again give some extracts from her letters. 


. . Among other pleasures in London, I have 
made acquaintance with the authoress of " Doing and 
Suffering." She gave me a good deal of practical advice 
about my schemes for milliners' classes . I want very 
much to give singing lessons for the Church Missionary 
Society, and German lessons for the Irish Society ; this 
would be clear gain, and also give me opportunities for 
influence among the class which interest me so much. 

. . . I must tell you about the east window in Mr. 
Bickersteth's church at Hampstead. Nothing in the 
window line ever made such an impression upon me. 
It is all filled in with simple arabesque and diaper work, 
merely quiet harmonious colour, nothing to arrest the 
eye, except the centre light, and in that is a white scroll 
on a blue ground, with just the words in crimson and 


gold letters, "Till He come." It sent quite a thrill 
through me. It is so exactly what one would like to 
look up to from the holy table. ... I must send 
you " In whom we have the forgiveness of sins," because 
I have just had a glimpse of the beauty and power of it, 
and I like best to send you what has been given me. 
Of course I lost it again; but, in praying for forgiveness, 
and sorrowfully enough, as usual, I remembered your 
quotation from Adelaide Newton, and then this flashed 
upon me, " /// whom we have" and was so satisfactory. 
Perhaps you don't feel the utter need of it that I do, 
but still I know it is precious truth for every one. 

GODSTONE, December 1867. 

Guess my birthday treat ? To the Zoological Gardens. 
I don't know anything I would rather see in London. 
I am a perfect baby as to animals ! I managed to get 
three more singing lessons, though I was never in voice, 
and had a bad cold. Signer Randegger says I have many 
mechanical difficulties to overcome, but gives me credit 
for " talent, taste, feeling, and brains." I might improve 
if under him for a year, and he consoled me by saying 
" I might always calculate on expressive singing." His 
first lesson was a lecture on the formation of the throat 
and production of sound, which he told me to write out 
as an abstract. I was very poorly in bed the next day \ 
so, having nothing to do, it occurred to me to rhyme it. 
Afterwards I was afraid lest he might be touchy and 
think I was making game of it. However it was quite 
the other way, and he asked for a copy to show his 



HERE beginneth, Chapter the first of a series, 
To be followed by manifold notes and queries ; 
So novel the queries, so trying the notes, 
I think I must have the queerest of throats, 
And most notable dulness, or else long ago 
The Signer had given up teaching, I trow. 
I wonder if ever before he has taught 
A pupil who can't do a thing as she ought ! 

The voice has machinery (now to be serious), 

Invisible, delicate, strange, and mysterious. 

A wonderful organ-pipe firstly we trace, 

Which is small in a tenor and wide in a bass : 

Below an ^Eolian harp is provided, 

Through whose fairy-like fibres the air will be guided. 

Above is an orifice, larger or small, 

As the singer desires to rise or to fall ; 

Expand and depress it, to deepen your roar, 

But raise and contract it, when high you would soar. 

Alas for the player, the pipes, and the keys, 

If the bellows give out an inadequate breeze ! 

So this is the method of getting up steam, 

The one motive power for song or for scream. 

Slowly and deeply, and just like a sigh, 

Fill the whole chest with a mighty supply ; 

Through the mouth only, and not through the nose ; 

And the lungs must condense it ere farther it goes. 

(How to condense it I really don't know, 

And very much hope the next lesson will show.) 

Then, forced from each side, through the larynx it comes, 

And reaches the region of molars and gums, 


And half of the sound will be ruined or lost 

If by any impediment here it is crossed. 

On the soft of the palate beware lest it strike, 

The effect would be such as your ear would not like. 

And arch not the tongue, or the terrified note 

Will straightway be driven back into the throat. 

Look well to your trigger, nor hasten to pull it, 

Once hear the report and you've done with your bullet. 

In the feminine voice there are registers three, 

Which upper, and middle, and lower must be ; 

And each has a sounding-board all of its own, 

The chest, lips, and head, to reverberate tone. 

But in cavities nasal it never must ring, 

Or no one is likely to wish you to sing. 

And if on this subject you waver in doubt, 

By listening and feeling the truth will come out. 

The lips, by-the-bye, will have plenty to do 

In forming the vowels Italian and true j 

Eschewing the English, uncertain and hideous, 

With an o and a u that are simply amphibious. 

In flexible freedom let both work together, 

And the under one must not be stiffened like leather. 

Here endeth the substance of what I remember, 
Indited this twenty-sixth day of November. 

The following extracts will illustrate my dear 
sister's life at this time. 

PYRMONT VILLA, LEAMINGTON, December 27, 1867. 
. . . . My first note in my new room in our new 
home must be to you. It is solemn to think of what 
I may go through ia this room : probably many happy 


hours, certainly many sorrowful ones. In all human 
probability it will be my room until the great sorrow falls 
which has already often seemed imminent, unless 1 die 
before my precious father. I have just been praying 
words from my own mamma's lips, when I was a little 
girl, " Prepare me for all that Thou art preparing for 
me." Yet, spite of these thoughts, I have not been at 
all in a good frame of mind ; oh, how often hidden 
evil is brought to light by some unexpected Ithuriel 
touch. Every one calls me sweet tempered ; but oh, I 
have been so ruffled two or three times, that I wondei 
and grieve at myself. I always suffer for being naughty ; 
I lose all enjoyment in prayer directly. "Oh, for a heart 
that never sins ! " 

January iSth, 1868, after describing her room: 

Can you fancy me there ? The only drawback is that, 
being at the top of the house, it will not be available for 
classes. I do wish all good carpets and furniture were 
at the bottom of the sea ! They are among the devices 
to hinder usefulness. I have done nothing about a class 
yet, and do hope I shall not be wilful in choosing for 
myself ! . . . I never saw such a place as Leaming- 
ton, every hole and corner seems dusted out ! Such a 
number of earnest loving workers ; some are wonderful, 
I am not worthy to sit at their feet. 

(To E. C.) 

LEAMINGTON, February 22, 1868. 
" Grace unto you and peace from God our Father and 
the Lord Jesus Christ." I send for your birthday the 
result of a year's daily and loving thought for you [a 

' ' HIDDEN L EA VES." 93 

Bible marked]. It is the worse for wear, having been 
with me in boxes, bags, and pockets. I have marked 
what struck me as containing food, light, and teaching 
of some sort. I do hope you will find my markings a 
help and pleasure, because not one chapter has been 
read without prayer for the Holy Spirit's teaching. . . . 
Can you not take Psalm xxiii. 6 as a birthday text ? 
only, the goodness and mercy are following all the days, 
even when their bright outline is lost in the shadow of 
closely pressing trials, and sometimes in our own shadow. 
. . . I am getting on with my book, and might finish 
it in a week or two by putting on steam ; but I am reso- 
lutely not hurrying it. ... 

February ', 1868. 

. . . I have not had a single poem come to me for 
some time, till last night, when one shot into my mind. 
All my best have come in that way, Minerva fashion, 
full grown. It is so curious, one minute I have not an 
idea of writing anything, the next I have a poem ; it is 
mine, I see it all, except laying out rhymes and metre, 
which is then easy work ! I rarely write anything which 
has not come thus. " Hidden Leaves " is the title ; I 
wonder how you would work it out after this beginning : 

' Oh the hidden leaves of life, 
Closely folded in the breast ! " 

The illness and death of her niece, Evelyn Emily 
Crane, was deeply felt. We may not give full 
details ; but it was her Aunt Frances who had led 
her to Christ some three years before, and her 


dying message confirmed the reality of her joyful 
trust in the Lord Jesus. 

April 14, 1868. 

That is indeed a precious message. The tension of 
this last week has been terrible. I think it so excessively 
kind of you to tell me all you do. I hunger for it ; you 
will understand how. My Evelyn's ring! * This is kind ! 
I shall always wear it. Once she wanted to wear mine. 
I have had most beautiful and comforting notes from 
J. H. E. and many others. The Hebrew word J. H. S. 
sent me pleased me much. I have had such sympathy 
from my new friends here. Oh, Marie dear, it is answer 
to prayer indeed. Don't think me selfish in letting 
out a little to you, or that I do not intensely feel for 
them because I feel so much myself. I wrote some 
verses Saturday evening (which I intended no one to see), 
"Dying? Evelyn, darling ! Dying? can it be?" t but will 
send them you ; and, if you think they would be more 
pleasure than pain, show them poor . The me- 
morial card made me realize it at last. Last night I sat 
long with it before me, with such an utter flood of love 
for that child in my heart. It rose and rose, and the 
sorrow and sense of loss with it, and how I last saw her, 
in all her graceful beauty. Then, at last, came a sudden 
glimpse, almost a vision, of seeing her again and having 
such a full and loving welcome from her above ! ' . . . 

Your loving sister. 

* See " The Two Rings," in " Under the Surface," page 221. 
t See " Under His Shadow," page 167. 


LEAMINGTON, May 1868. 

. . . I am not ill, but overdone and tired. A nice 
letter even to you is an impossibility. This has been 
trial, but as yet I see no " nevertheless afterwards." 
I have been falling back on " O Lord, Thou knovvest." 
. . . I only send you two words ; but they are, and 
will be seen to be, the true "theme" or " subject," 
speaking musically, carried through all the majors and 
minors of life: "MARVELLOUS LOVINGKINDNESS." . . . 

(To E. C.) 

LEAMINGTON, February. 

Another birthday ! so I send you another note of birth- 
day love ; " Surely my judgment is with the Lord, and 
my work with my God." That word " work " seems to 
include and imply " reward of work," so the whole thing 
is with your God ; it is as if you carry home your daily 
portion of work to Him, and He lays it up safe with 
what preceded it; and some day He will bring it out all in 
one beautiful completed piece, with many finishings and 
beautifyings beyond what your hand wrought ; and His 
"Well done!" will be your reward, whether it be delayed 
till He adds "Enter thou " or not. At last I have 
had my longed for "pause in life," but as yet I am not 
well enough to enjoy it. Maria will tell you how 
wretchedly ill I have been 

May Sf/i. 

I only heard of your accident last night. My dear 
old text flashed upon me the instant I heard of it, 
"Meet for the Master's use"; surely it is for that He 
has taken His vessel away from active use, that it may 
be made more meet. I feel so disposed to look out 


for much marked blessing upon you and your work 
when He permits you to resume it. Let me give you 
another, " He will be very gracious unto thee at the 
voice of thy cry." That has comforted me often, more 
than any promise of answer ; it includes answers and a 
great deal more besides ; it tells us what He is towards 
us, and that is more than what He will do. And the 
"cry" is not long, connected, thoughtful prayers; a 
cry is just an unworded dart upwards of the heart, 
and at that " voice " He will be very gracious. What a 
smile there is in these words ! . . . 

In May 1869 our brother-in-Jaw, Mr. Crane, 
took Frances, with his wife and eldest daughter 
Miriam, to Switzerland, by the Rhine route to 
Heidelberg, Freiburg, Basle and SchafThausen. 
Her neatly kept journal has photographs of the 
several places visited, and the Alpine flowers she 
dried for its pages. 


It was fascinating to look down at the wild rapids, 
sheets of glass-like transparency, flowing swiftly over 
rock tables, then a sudden precipice below water, which 
might go down to any depth, only that you are not 
looking down into darkness, but into emerald and snow 
mingled and transfused marvellously. The rocks be- 
neath are not a smooth ledge ; thus the water is thrown 
out into a chaos of magnificent curves and leaps, infinitely 
more beautiful than any single chute could be. You 
look up, and see masses of bright water hurled ever- 
lastingly irresistibly down, down, down with a sort of 


exuberance of the joy of utter strength ; you look across, 
and see shattered diamonds by millions leaping and 
glittering in the sunshine ; you look down, and it is a 
tremendous wrestling and overcoming of flood upon 
flood, all the more weirdly grand that it is half hklden 
in the clouds of spray. Every drop is so full of light 
that the eye is soon dazzled and weary : oh if one were 
only all spirit ! The next day it was great luxury to sit 
on the terrace overlooking the falls. I jotted some verses 
(" He hath spoken in the darkness "),* which have been 
haunting me for two or three days. The text was sent 
me lately, " What I tell you in darkness that speak ye 
in light." I never noticed it before ; how strange it is 
what treasures we miss every time we read His word ! 

BERNE, June i2t/i. 

At last ! Miriam crept quietly to the window about 
5 a.m., and I woke as she passed. "Anything to see?" 
"Oh yes, I really do believe I see them!" Of course 
I was up in a second. The sun had risen above the 
thick mist, and away in the south east were the weird 
giant outlines of the Bernese Oberland mountains 
bending towards the sun, as if they had been our 
mighty guardian spirits all night, and were resigning 
their charge ere they flew away into farther light. The 
very mist was a folding of wings about their feet, and a 
veiling of what might be angel brows, quiet and serene. 
It is no use laughing at " fancies " ; wait till you have 
seen what we did from the roof of the Berner Hof ! 

So now the dream of all my life is realized, and I 

* See ''Under the Surface," page 161. 



have seen snow mountains ! When I was quite a little 
child of eight years old I used to reverie about them, 
and when I heard the name of the snow-covered Sierra 
de la Summa Paz (perfect peace) the idea was completed ; 
and I thenceforth always thought of eternal snow and 
perfect peace together, and longed to see the one and 
drink in the other. And I am not disappointed. They 
are just as pure, and bright, and peace-suggestive as ever 
I dreamt them. It may be rather in the style of the old 
women who invariably say " It 's just like heaven," when 
they get a tolerably comfortable tea-meeting ; but really 
I never saw anything material and earthly which so 
suggested the ethereal and heavenly, which so seemed to 
lead up to the unseen, to be the very steps of the Throne; 
and one could better fancy them to be the visible founda- 
tions of the invisible celestial city, bearing some wonder- 
ful relation to its transparent gold and crystal sea, than 
only snow and granite, rising out of this same every-day 
earth we are treading, dusty and stony ! . . . 

In the autumn of this year Frances went to 
Scotland, and extremely enjoyed the Highland 
scenery ; at the same time visiting various friends. 



A father's holy teachings Peaceful death "Yet speaketh " 
*' Songs of Grace and Glory " How harmony was learnt 
Letter on tunes in " Havergal's Psalmody" The "hush of 
praise " Sympathy The great transition The most 
enjoyable trip to Switzerland A real Alpine dawn The 
Vaudois chaplain Vivas on the Col de la Seigne Christ- 
mas Day Waiting, not working. 

MANY pictures could be drawn of Frances' 
home life at Leamington. Especially did 
she value the sympathy of her dear father in all 
her studies. With him she delighted to talk out 
hard questions ; and his classical knowledge, his 
poetic and musical skill, settled many a point. 
She would rush down with her new poems or 
thoughts, awaiting his criticisms. And very 
charming was it to hear her lively coaxing that 
he would "just sing," as she accompanied his 
sacred songs ; while at other times I have seen her 
absorbed with his improvised melodies, fugues and 
intricate progressions, thrilling yet passing. His 
holy and consistent example, ever holding forth 
the word of life and sound doctrine, had been 


as a guiding light on his child's path ; of this 
Frances writes in " Yet Speaketh." 

" Deep teachings from the Word he held so dear, 

Things new and old in that great treasure found, 
A valiant cry, a witness strong and clear, 

A trumpet with no dull uncertain sound ; 
These shall not die, but live ; his rich bequest 
To that beloved Church whose servant is at rest." 

Another daughter describes him very truthfully; 
and her lines are also given. 

A Tribute to my Father, on his Birthday, 1866. 

WHILE we reckon up thy years, 
Balancing our hopes and fears, 
Praise we our Redeemer's grace 
Shining on thy pilgrim race. 
He hath given thee work to do, 
And the task to suffer too. 
He hath given thee art to twine 
Music-chords with song sublime, 
Holy chant and choral hymn, 
Praise-notes fit for seraphim; 
Tuneful voice and ready pen 
Charm and teach the souls of men; 
And thy God hath given thee skill, 
Guiding youth to do His will; 
And, as pastor in His fold, 
Christ's salvation to uphold. 
Now a time for rest is thine 
In the land of Beulah's shine, 


Where the angels come and go, 
Bringing help and hope, and low 
Sweet echoes of the heavenly chime, 
Cheering on the flight of time. 
Oh may health and peace be given,. 
Till the ties of earth be riven, 
And this birthday happy be 
With the light of heaven on Thee ! 


The shadow of death fell swiftly and stealthily 
on our dear father's path. The care of his devoted 
wife had, doubtless, warded off many an attack of 
serious illness. On Easter Even, 1870, he was 
unusually well and had walked out during the 
day. Later on he sat down to his harmonium, 
playing and singing the tune composed by him in 
the morning.* He rose early, as usual, on Easter 
Day ; but apoplexy ensued ; and, after forty-eight 
hours of unconsciousness, he passed away. 

" Yet speaketh ! " there was no last word of love, 

So suddenly on us the sorrow fell ; 
His bright translation to the home above 

Was clouded with no shadow of farewell ; 
His last Lent evening closed with praise and prayer. 
And then began the songs of endless Easter there." 

In Astley churchyard, under the fir tree (the 
place which he had chosen years before), he rests 

No. 163 in " Havergal's Psalmody." 


" till that day." The epitaph on the white marble 
tomb is as follows. 

Shareshill and Hon. Canon of Worcester Cathedral. Died 
at Leamington, iQth April, 1870, aged 77. Curate 7, 
and Rector 13 years, of this parish, 1822 to 1843. " A 
faithful minister in the Lord" (Eph. vi. 21). 

Memorial tablets were also placed in Worcester 
Cathedral, St. Nicholas and Shareshill Churches. 

Some weeks after, Frances wrote to Elizabeth 
Clay : 

I was terribly upset last night, and yet not all sadness ; 
one of papa's chants was gloriously sung at the West- 
minster Abbey evening service ; such a scene and such 
music ! . . . "I know their sorrows n (Exod. iii. 7) 
is full of intensest comfort when it is needed ; it is the 
climax in it which has so much struck me as corre- 
sponding to three degrees of sorrow which I suppose all 
know ; anyhow, you do and I do. That sorrow which 
can be seen is the lightest form really, however apparently 
heavy; then there is that which is not seen, secret 
sorrows which yet can be put into words, and can be 
told to near friends as well as be poured out to God , 
but there are sorrows beyond these, such as are never 
told, and cannot be put into words, and may only be 
wordlessly laid before God : these are the deepest. Now 
comes the supply for each : " I have seen " that which 
is patent and external; " I have heard their cry" which 
is the expression of this, and of as much of the external 
as is expressible ; but this would not go deep enough, 


so God adds, " I know their sorrows," down to very 
depths of all, those which no eye sees or ear ever heard. 
Is it not a beautiful climax ? 

It was soon after her father's death that my 
sister undertook the preparation for the press of 
" Havergal's Psalmody," which afterwards was 
largely used in connection with the Rev. C. B. 
Snepp's Hymnal, " Songs of Grace and Glory," of 
which full details will be found in the Appendix. 

The preparation for the work of harmonizing she 
alludes to in a letter to her friend Mary C. in 1866. 

How I should like to teach you harmony ! I do 
believe I could make it lucid; you can't think what 
exquisite symmetry there is in chords and intervals, so 
that I always feel, as well as believe, that man by no 
means invented harmony, but only found out God's 
beautiful arrangements in it. As for my own composi- 
tions, I am (at some cost of resolution) abstaining en- 
tirely. Hiller, of Cologne,irecommended me an excellent 
book, which I got, and determined to write no more till 
I had gone through it ; this I am steadily doing, and 
enjoy writing the exercises. I suppose, after Killer's pro- 
fessional opinion, it would be affectation to say I had no 
talent, and I certainly do feel I have at least a sort of 
inherited instinct for seeing into harmonies. The way I 
studied harmony was rather unique ; some years ago (at 
home) I kept a treatise on harmony in my bedroom, 
read as much as I could conveniently grasp the last 
thing, and then worked out the exercises in my head 
before going to sleep. This I did for several weeks, 


and suppose I must have taken it in very comfortably 
under this system, inasmuch as I had some work to 
persuade Hiller that I had gone through no " academical 
course ! " 

Frances writes (1870) of difficulties in the work : 

I was so struck this morning with "Thou art the 
Helper of the fatherless," the very first time one ol 
those special orphan promises has come home to me. I 
had been puzzling over a tune which papa would have 
decided about in a minute, and missed him so much, 
when suddenly this verse flashed upon me brightly. I 
think that even in music the Lord is my helper now ; 
much more in other things. 

When composing some tunes at this time, I selected 
six about which I felt doubtful, and sent them to Sir 
Frederic Ouseley, asking him to say if they were all 
right. This he most kindly did; to my great delight he 
endorsed them every one, and praised them too. 

Very prayerfully did she write several hymns 
for " Songs of Grace and Glory "; and, when she 
heard from time to time of their being blessed, she 
wrote in answer to a friend's communication : 

It does seem wonderful that God should so use and 
bless my hymns ; and yet it really does seem as if the 
seal of His own blessing were set upon them, for so 
many testimonies have reached me. Writing is praying 
with me, for I never seem to write even a verse by 
myself, and feel like a little child writing; you know a 
child would look up at every sentence and say " And 


what shall I say next?" That is just what I do ; I ask 
that at every line He would give me, not merely thoughts 
and power, but also every word, even the very rhymes. 
Very often I have a most distinct and happy con- 
sciousness of direct answers. As you use " Havergal's 
Psalmody " I thought you might be interested to 
know a little more about my dear father, so will you 
accept a " Memorial " of him. 

Literal " singing for Jesus " is to me, somehow, the 
most personal and direct commission I hold from my 
beloved Master; and my opportunities for it are often 
most curious, and have been greatly blessed ; every line 
in my little poem "Singing for Jesus" is from personal 
experience. . . . 

I was so overwhelmed on Sunday at hearing three ot 
my hymns touchingly sung at Perry Church. I never 
before realized the high privilege of writing for " the 
great congregation"; especially 633, "I gave My life 
for thee " to papa's tune "Baca"; the others were 120 
and 921 in " S. G. G." 

(To Margaret W .) 

. . . Last night they sang " To Him who for our 
sins was slain," to my little tune " Tryphosa "; it went so 
deliciously, and choir and congregation really rang out 
the Alleluias so brightly that it suddenly came over me, 
as it never did before, what a privilege it is even to have 
contributed a bit of music for His direct praise. It was 
a sort oil hush of praise,, all alone with Jesus, for His great 
goodness. I had no idea " Tryphosa " was such a pretty 
tune before ! . . . 

About coming to hear , I see that I shall glorify 


Him most by staying away. Fruits of my profession are 
looked for, and what will be looked for in this case is 
submission to known wishes and the yielding up of my 
own. It is sure to be all right. I don't think He will 
let me lose the blessing and the help I had looked 
for in coming, . . . 

One result of her own trials was sympathy with 
others, beautifully expressed in the following 

LEAMINGTON, December 10, 1870. 

What can one do but just weep with you ! /can only 
guess what this sorrow is. Only, I know it must be the 
greatest, except one, which could come to you. That 
dear little beautiful thing ! He looked so sweet and 
happy when I saw him at the station : no baby face ever 
haunted me as, somehow, his did. If you could only see 
him now, how beautiful he must be now that he has 
seen Jesus and shines in the light of God. It is even 
more wonderful to think of that great transition for a 
baby than for a grown person ; one cannot imagine the 
sudden expansion into such knowledge and conscious 
joy. I was looking back, early this morning, upon long 
memories of soul trials, years of groping and stumbling 
and longing, sinning and sorrowing, of heart weariness 
and faintness, temptation and failure; all these things 
which I suppose every Christian must pass through, more 
or less, at some stage or other on the way home ; and the 
first distinct thought which came through the surprise and 
sorrow at the sad news was, " that dear little redeemed 
one is spared all this, taken home without any of these 


roughest roughnesses of the way ; he will never fear or 
doubt or sin, never grieve the Saviour" Is it not the 
very best and kindest thing that tender Saviour could 
do for him ? Only it is not what you meant when you 
prayed that he might be His own. But better, for he is 
with Him at once and for ever, and waiting for you to 
come home too. I am only writing all this because my 
heart is full, and must pour out a little. I know we can't 
comfort, only Jesus can ; and I shall go and plead long 
and intensely for this as soon as I have closed my letter. 
He must be specially " touched " in such a sorrow, for 
He knows by actual experience what human love is. 
Three such great sorrows in one year ! how specially He 
must be watching you in such a furnace ! . . . Yours, 
with deepest sympathy and love. 

In June of 1871 Frances and her friend Eliza- 
beth Clay spent seme weeks in Switzerland ; with 
no encumbering luggage, just carpet bags and 
knapsacks, they often diverged from beaten routes. 
Frances always spoke of this as the most enjoyable 
of all her Swiss tours. Walking up the Reuss valley 
she writes from Geschenen : 

Hurrah ! we are in a most exhilarated state of mind, 
just like children ; and, except a little undercurrent of 
general thanksgiving we don't feel solemn at all, and 
have been in the wildest spirits. 

From Andermatt we took the diligence to the Furca 
pass. It is so early that, in some places, the road lay 
between walls of snow. We were obliged to take a guide 
up the Furca horn, as there is no vestige of a track ; the 


snow slopes were most entertaining to cross, and I en- 
joyed the scramble excessively. 

Going up the Aeggischhorn (she continues), an Alpine 
Clubbist with the guide Fischer was before us, and he 
afterwards told our guide, Alexander, that he watched us 
from above, and that I " went up like a chamois ! " and 
he was quite astonished how quickly I got up a difficult 
climb ; but I always had an instinct I should find myself 
a rather extra good climber. The glissades down are 
simply delicious. 

BEL ALP, July 8. To-day has been the best of all. 
We secured Anton Walden for the Sparrenhorn, which is 
nearly 10,000 feet. Another lady, Miss Anstey, joined. 
Coffee at 3.30, started before 4 a.m. 

Now I have seen it at last, a real Alpine dawn and 
sunrise to perfection ! When we came out we saw the 
" daffodil sky," which Tyndall describes, in the east a 
calm glory of expectant light as if something positively 
celestial must come next, instead of merely the usual sun. 
In the south west the grand mountains stood, white and 
perfectly clear, as if they might be waiting for the 
resurrection, with the moon shining pale and radiant 
over them, the deep Rhone valley dark and grave-like 
in contrast below. As we got higher, the first rose flush 
struck the Mischabel and Weisshorn, and Monte Leon 
came to life too ; it was real rose-fire, delicate yet intense. 
The Weisshorn was in its full glory, looking more per- 
fectly lovely than any earthly thing I ever saw. When the 
tip of the Matterhorn caught the red light on its evil- 
looking rocky peak, it was just like a volcano and looked 
rather awful than lovely, giving one the idea of an evil 


angel, impotently wrathful, shrinking away from the 
serene glory and utter purity of a holy angel, which that 
Weisshorn at dawn might represent if anything earthly 
could. The eastern ridges were almost jet, in front of the 
great golden glow into which the daffodil sky heightened. 
By 4.30 a.m. it was all over, and thenceforth we devoted 
ourselves to getting up the Sparrenhorn. 

After many other excursions they went down 
into the Italian valleys. 

July 28th. COURMAYEUR. ... I have been writ- 
ing in a delicious den, under a rock, cool and shady, a 
discovery of Elizabeth's. It commands a grand front of 
Mont Blanc. We had a stiff climb to the shoulder of a 
mountain whose Courmayeur face is a striking precipice. 
There is a tolerable path up a gorge, leading to a ride 
just below the cone of Mont Chetif. From this point 
we had a face-to-face view of the most precipitous side 
of Mont Blanc, with the ice fall of the Glacier de 
Brenva. The summit of Mont Blanc was veiled, but I 
think that added to the weird sublimity of the view. 

One evening the English chaplain and Mrs. Phinn 
asked us to come to tea, to meet Costabel, the Vaudois 
missionary pastor stationed here. This was very inter- 
esting he is a nice, simple, good man, and told us a 
great deal about Vaudois work. Costabel is very isolated 
here (but Mr. Phinn has quite taken him up), for he has 
only a few poor Christian friends, and never any superior 
society unless the English find him out. He told us that 
the fear of death among the people here is awful, and 
that he is frequently present at the most painful death 
scenes. During life and health they leave everything to 


the priest, and believe that he will make it all right for 
them ; and, except complying with certain forms, do not 
think or trouble themselves about religion at all. Then, 
when they are dying they get alarmed, and see that this 
natural shifting of their religion upon another (the priest) 
will not do ; they lose confidence in him, and have no 
other ; they want peace and have none ; they would like 
to feel assured, but they have no assurance ; and they die 
in agonies of terror. It was terrible to hear Costabel's 
description of what he says is the rule as to Romish 
death beds. " Unto the poor the gospel is preached/' 
and he says it is so here. Only the poor will listen to 
him, and those in the outlying villages where no priest 
resides. We find the people here quite different from 
the Swiss, and not at all so ready to accept Gospels. 
It is the first place where, on offering any, we have been 
asked " whether it was a Protestant book "; however they 
always end by taking them. 

Mont Blanc is more than ever supreme to me : it is 
quite strange what a difference in effect there is between 
him and Monte Rosa, though this is second in height and 
only 500 feet lower. Monte Rosa is quite disappointing 
and unimposing ; and, as there are four other mountains 
round Zermatt very nearly as high, and seven or eight 
more not much lower, there is nothing of this imperial 
supremacy which makes Mont Blanc so unmistakable 
from anywhere. 

I think that, either for strong or weak folk, Courma- 
yeur is the very best place I know of for making a long 
stay atj the walks and excursions are inexhaustible, 
there are any amount of grand things to do for mount- 
aineers, and lovely little easy walks, as short as you like, 


for mere invalids. Valleys and gorges fork and re-fork 
in all directions. Another advantage is that it lies on a 
gentle slope some little height above the noisy, foaming 
Dora, and so one has not the perpetual roar which I 
always think the greatest drawback to Swiss enjoyment. 
If the rivers would but go to sleep at night, what a relief 
it would be ! I certainly have not been so well for 
years, and except for some wakeful nights I should 
have done the whole tour without flagging at all. 

Saturday, 5.30 p.m. CHAPIU. We have got off at 
last ; it was not at all hopeful yesterday, and I began the 
day rather anxiously (as I should really have been in 
a fix if we could not have left till Monday), and there 
was the clearest, most transparent, dawn sky imaginable; 
not a cloud; and a delicious north wind, which is an infal- 
lible sign of first-rate weather. We got off exactly at five, 
in great spirits, as the views must be first-rate on such a 
morning, and the cool wind would make walking very 
easy. As we passed our old hotel, we found a caravan of 
about eighteen mules and nearly as many guides, as all the 
Italians pensioning there were going up the Col de la 
Seigne for the day. We hastened on, as we of course did 
not want to be mixed up, and succeeded in keeping ahead 
the whole way, five hours, though we were alternately on 
foot and they all riding, and got to the top just before 
them. We chose our spot to lunch, and they camped 
at a little distance with many bows and " Bon appetits ! " 
and other small foreign civilities, as they passed us. 
When we had finished and were moving off, they shouted 
to us to stay, and all rose and came to us offering us 
wine and fruit, and saying they wished to propose a toast 

112 MEMORIALS OF F. R. ti. 

and drink with us before we left. It was far too gracefully 
done to refuse ; so red wine was poured, and all raised 
a most cordial " Vive FAngleterre ! " with great enthu- 
siasm and clinking of glasses, to which we responded 
with a " Viva 1' Italia ! " which seemed to please them. 
Then an old priest said, " Mesdemoiselles, etes vous 
catholiques ? Viva Roma ! " to which I replied in 
Italian, " We can at least say, Viva Roma capitale d' 
Italia!" which response he quite understood and said, 
" Ah well, ah well, viva Christianity/' to which we of 
course responded con amore. Then two or three more 
(probably freethinkers, I'm afraid) said, " Oui bien, but 
no more Popery", and two or three similar exclama- 
tions, at which we were very much astonished, as at least 
three priests were in the party. Then we were allowed 
to depart, with no end of hat wavings and good wishes. 
We were so taken by surprise with the whole thing, and 
all passed so quickly, and so many rapid exclamations 
and vivas firing off in French and Italian, that I was 
quite sorry afterwards that I had not recollected all quite 
distinctly. It was such a curious little episode, and 
occurring too at such a superb spot, and close to the 
cross which marks the boundary and bears on one side 
" France " and on the other " Italia." We reached 
Chapiu at two, having only been eight hours in actual 
progress, as we stayed nearly an hour on the col, as we 
hoped it might be possible to put on steam and get over 
the Col de Bonhomme this afternoon, and thereby be 
yet able to do Chamounix. But we found that, owing to 
the great snow, it would take five hours from Chapiu, 
and that all on foot, as a mule could not go at all ; so 
we were obliged to give it up, (though feeling quite 


If not, we take away from this most precious promise, 
and, by refusing to take it in its fulness, lose the fulness of 
its application and power. Then we limit God's power 
to "keep"; we look at our frailty more than at His omni- 
potence. Where is the line to be drawn, beyond which 
He is not " able " ? The very keeping implies total help- 
lessness without it, and the very cleansing most distinctly 
implies defilement without it. It was that one word 
" deanseth " which opened the door of a very glory of 
hope and joy to me. I had never seen the force of the 
tense before, a continual present, always a present tense, 
not a present which the next moment becomes a past. 
It goes on cleansing, and I have no words to tell how my 
heart rejoices in it. Not a coming to be cleansed in the 
fountain only, but a remaining in the fountain, so that it 
may and can go on cleansing. 

Why should we pare down the commands and pro- 
mises of God to the level of what we have hitherto 
experienced of what God is " able to do," or even of 
what we have thought He might be able to do for us ? 
Why not receive God's promises, nothing doubting, just 
as they stand ? " Take the shield of faith, whereby ye 
shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked "; 
" He is able to make all grace abound toward you, that 
ye, always having all sufficiency in all things "; and so 
on, through whole constellations of promises, which surely 
mean really and fully what they say. 

One arrives at the same thing, starting almost from any- 
where. Take Philippians iv. 19, " your need " ; well, what 
is my great need and craving of soul ? Surely it is now, 
(having been justified by faith, and having assurance of 
salvation,) to be made holy by the continual sanctifying 


1 30 MEMORIALS OF F. R. If. 

power of God's Spirit; to be kept from grieving the Lord 
Jesus -, to be kept from thinking or doing whatever is not 
accordant with His holy will. Oh what a need is this ! 
And it is said " He shall supply all need " ; now, shall 
we turn round and say " all " does not mean quite all ? 
Both as to the commands and the promises, it seems to 
me that anything short of believing them as they stand is 
but another form of " yea, hath God said ? " 

Thus accepting, in simple and unquestioning faith, 
God's commands and promises, one seems to be at once 
brought into intensified views of everything. Never, oh 
never before, did sin seem so hateful, so really " intoler- 
able," nor watchfulness so necessary, and a keenness and 
uninterruptedness of watchfulness too, beyond what one 
ever thought of, only somehow different, not a distressed 
sort but a happy sort. It is the watchfulness of a 
sentinel when his captain is standing by him on the 
ramparts, when his eye is more than ever on the alert for 
any sign of the approaching enemy, because he knows 
they can only approach to be defeated. Then, too, the 
" all for Jesus " comes in ; one sees there is no half way, 
it must be absolutely all yielded up, because the least 
unyielded or doubtful point is sin, let alone the great 
fact of owing all to Him. And one cannot, dare not, 
temporize with sin. I know, and have found, that even 
a momentary hesitation about yielding, or obeying, or 
trusting and believing, vitiates all, the communion is 
broken, the joy vanished; only, thank God, this never 
need continue even five minutes, faith may plunge 
instantly into " the fountain open for sin and unclean- 
ness," and again find its power to cleanse and restore. 
Then one wants to have more and more light ; one does 


not shrink from painful discoveries of evil, because one so 
wants to have the unknown depths of it cleansed as well 
as what comes to the surface. " Cleanse me throughly 
from my sin ;" and one prays to be shown this. But so 
far as one does see, one must " put away sin M and obey 
entirely; and here again His power is our resource, 
enabling us to do what without it we could not do. 

One of the intensest moments of my life was when I 
saw the force of that word " cleanseth? The utterly un- 
expected and altogether unimagined sense of its fulfilment 
to me, on simply believing it in its fulness, was just in- 
describable. I expected nothing like it short of heaven. 
I am so thankful that, in the whole matter, there was as 
little human instrumentality as well could be, for certainly 
two sentences in letters from a total stranger were little. 
I say only two sentences, for nothing else seemed to 
make much difference to me \ all the rest was, I am sure, 
God's own direct teaching. And you know I had read no 
books and attended no meetings or conferences ! I am so 
conscious of His direct teaching and guidance, through 
His word and Spirit, in the matter that I cannot think 
I can ever unsee it again. I have waited many months 
before writing this, so it is no new and untested theory 
to me ; in fact, experience came before theory and is 
more to me than any theory. But, understand me, it is 
"not as though / had already attained, either were 
already perfect ; but I follow after, I press toward the 
mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ 

Frances wrote to her friend J K : 

I send you my own New Year's motto and message. 


It is a wonderful word, " from glory unto glory." May 
we more and more claim and realize all that is folded 
up in it. I know you have prayed for me, so I must tell 
you that your prayers are answered. 1873 has been a 
year of unprecedented blessing to me. I think you will 
see this in " From Glory unto Glory." So now will you 
join me in praise 

This hymn was written at Winterdyne, and 
Mr. Shaw well remembers Frances bringing it and 
reading it to him, saying, " There ! I could not 
have written this before." And as she stood, even 
in the twilight, the sunny radiance of her counte- 
nance was sealing her words : 

" The fulness of His blessing encompasseth our way ; 
The fulness of His promises crowns every brightening 


The fulness of His glory is beaming from above, 
While more and more we realize the fulness of His 


Every visit seemed now to open doors for her 
loving words, and she longed for whole households 
to taste with her of the goodness of the Lord. 
One extract must be as it were a glimpse of 
many others. 

Perhaps you will be interested to know the origin of 
the consecration hymn, "Take my life." I went for 
a little visit of five days. There were ten persons in the 
house, some unconverted and long prayed for, some 


converted but not rejoicing Christians. He gave me the 
prayer, " Lord, give me all in this house ! " And He 
just did I Before I left the house every one had got a 
blessing. The last night of my visit I was too happy to 
sleep, and passed most of the night in praise and renewal 
of my own consecration, and these little couplets formed 
themselves and chimed in my heart one after another, 
till they finished with, " Ever, ONLY, ALL for Thee ! " 

The beautiful couplet in the same hymn, 

" Take my voice, and let me sing, 
Always, only, for my King," 

was thenceforth (from December 1873) really 
carried out. She writes : 

Let us sing words which we feel and love, sacrificing 
everything to clearness of enunciation, and looking up 
to meet His smile all the while we are singing; our 
songs will reach more hearts than those of finer voices 
and more brilliant execution, unaccompanied by His 
power. A sacred song thus sung often gives a higher tone 
to the evening, and affords, both to singer and listeners, 
some opportunity of speaking a word for Jesus. 

. . . . I was at a large regular London party 
lately, and I was so happy. He seemed to give me " the 
secret of His presence," and of course I sang "for Jesus," 
and did not I have dead silence ? Afterwards I had two 
really important conversations with strangers; one seemed 
extremely surprised at finding himself quite easily drifted 
from the badinage with which he started into a right- 
down personal talk about his personal danger and his 


only hope for safety ; he took it very well, and thanked 
me. Perhaps that seed may bear fruit. Somehow it is 
wonderful how the Master manages for me in such cases. 
I don't think any one can say I force the subject ; it just 
all develops one thing out of another, quite naturally, 
till very soon they find themselves face to face with 
eternal things, and the Lord Jesus can be freely "lifted 
up " before them. I could not contrive a conversation 

And the following letter gives another reference 
to the reality of her experience. 

January 26, 1874. 


I have just had such a blessing in the shape of 
what would have been only two months ago a really 
bitter blow to me ; and now it is actual accession of joy, 
because I find that it does not even touch me ! I was 
expecting a letter from America, enclosing ^35 now 
due to me, and possibly news that " Bruey " was going 
on like steam, and " Under the Surface " pressingly 
wanted. The letter has come, and, instead of all this, 
my publisher has failed in the universal crash. He holds 
my written promise to publish only with him as the con- 
dition of his launching me ; so this is not simply a little 
loss, but an end of all my American prospects of either 
cash, influence, or fame, at any rate for a long time to 
come. I really had not expected that He would do for 
me so much above all I asked, as not merely to help me 
to acquiesce in this, but positively not to feel it at all, 
and only to rejoice in it as a clear test of the reality of 
victorious faith which I do find brightening almost daily. 


Two months ago this would have been a real trial to me, 
for I had built a good deal on my American prospects ; 
now " Thy will be done " is not a sigh but only a song ! 
I think if it had been all my English footing, present and 
prospective, as well as the American, that I thus found 
suddenly gone, it would have been worth it, for the joy 
it has been to find my Lord so faithful and true to all 
His promises. With regard to many of the promises, 
there seems no room for even the exercise of faith. It is 
not that I believe or grasp them, but that I find them all 
come true as I never did before. The sense of His 
unutterable lovingkindness to me is simply overwhelming. 
. . . . Several times lately I have felt literally over- 
whelmed and overpowered with the realization of God's 
unspeakable goodness to me. I say it deliberately, and 
with thankfulness and joy for which I have no words. I 
have not a fear, or a doubt, or a care, or a shadow upon 
the sunshine of my heart. Every day brings some quite 
new cause for thankfulness ; only to-day He has given 
me such a victory as I never had before, in a very 
strong temptation ; He lifted me above it in a way I 
never experienced yet 

Two months afterwards she writes : 

March 19, 1874. 


. . . I can never set myself to write verse. I 
believe my King suggests a thought and whispers me a 
musical line or two, and then I look up and thank 
Him delightedly, and go on with it. That is how the 
hymns and poems come. Just now there is silence. I 
have not had the least stir of music in my mind since 


I wrote that tiny consecration hymn, a most unusually 
long interval ; and till He sends it there will be none. I 
am always ready to welcome it and work it when it 
comes, but I never press for it. ... 

And the following letter confirms this statement 


I can't make you quite understand me ! You say 
"F. R. H. could do 'Satisfied' grandly"! No, she 
couldn't ! Not unless He gave it me line by line ! That 
is how verses come. The Master has not put a chest of 
poetic gold into my possession and said " Now use it as 
you like ! " But He keeps the gold, and gives it me 
piece by piece just when He will and as much as He will, 
and no more. Some day perhaps He will send me a 
bright line of verse on " Satisfied " ringing through my 
mind, and then I shall look up and thank Him, and say, 
" Now, dear Master, give me another to rhyme with it, 
and then another"; and then perhaps He will send it all 
in one flow of musical thoughts, but more likely one at a 
time, that I may be kept asking Him for every line. There, 
that is the process, and you see there is no " I can do 
it " at all. That isn't His way with me. I often smile to 
myself when people talk about "gifted pen" or "clever 
verses," etc. ; because they don't know that it is neither, 
but something really much nicer than being " talented " 
or " clever." 

Nearly every poem woirid verify the above. 
Some instances are given. When visiting at Perry 
Barr she walked to the boys' schoolroom, and 


being very tired she leaned against the play- 
ground wall while Mr. Snepp went in. Returning 
in ten minutes, he found her scribbling on an old 
envelope, and at his request she handed him the 
hymn just pencilled, " Golden harps are sounding." 
In my dear sister's copy of the " Ministry of 
Song " she has written particulars, which may be 
interesting, in connection with others of her well 
known hymns. 

" This Same Jesus " is founded on a recollection of 
one sentence in a sermon of my father's, at St. Nicholas, 
which struck me most vividly and happily. I shall not 
forget the thrill which went through me when he said, 
"it will be 'this same Jesus.'" It also developed a much 
earlier impression of the same kind in 1851. "This 
same Jesus " is one of the chief watchwords of my faith. 
I constantly recur to it, and I think it will be my comfort 
in the dark vdlley. I wrote the lines at Oakhampton, 
one Sunday, when detained from church by a slight 
accident, and gave them to my niece Miriam. 

" Daily Strength." The New Year's bells were ring- 
ing (1859), when Maria awoke me to hear them, and 
quoted to me the text, "As thy days, so shall thy 
strength be," as a New Year's motto. I did not answer, 
but presently returned it to her in rhyme. She was 
pleased ; so the next day I wrote it in her album.* 

* The facsimile of the last verse, "When thy days on earth are 
passed," will be found beneath the engraved portrait of my dear 
sister. It shows her handwriting when copying. 

138 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

" Making Poetry " was suggested by a nice little girl, 
Charlotte Kirke, who was spending her holidays in 
Wales, when I was there in 1863. She made some 
really pretty little quatrains, and repeated one, about a 
daisy, to me sitting on the window seat. She called it 
" making poetry," as children always do. 

"Adoration" ("O Master, at Thy feet I bow in 
rapture sweet") was written on December 3ist, 1866. 
I felt that I had not written anything specially in praise 
to Christ ; a strong longing to do so possessed me. I 
wanted to show forth His praise, to Him, not to others ; 
even if no mortal ever saw it, He would see every line, 
would know the unwritten longing to praise Him, even 
if words failed utterly. It describes, as most of my 
poems do, rather reminiscence than present feeling. 

" O Master ! " It is perhaps my favourite title, because 
it implies rule and submission ; and this is what love 
craves. Men may feel differently, but a true woman's 
submission is inseparable from deep love. I wrote it in 
the cold and twilight in a little back room at Shareshill 

As I began my book (" Ministry of Song ") with the 
expression of its devotion to God's glory, I wished to 
close it with a distinctive ascription of praise to the Lord 
Jesus, and therefore at once decided to place " Adora- 
tion " at the close. 

Her missionary hymn "Tell it out among the 
heathen " was written at Winterdyne, when unable 


to go to church one snowy Sunday morning. She 
asked for her Prayer-Book (in bed), always liking 
to follow the services for the day. On Mr. Shaw's 
return from church, he heard her touch on the piano. 
"Why, Frances, I thought you were upstairs!" 
" Yes ; but I had my Prayer-Book, and in the 
psalms for to-day I read ' Tell it out among the 
heathen that the Lord is King.' I thought, what 
a splendid first line ! and then words and music 
came rushing in to me. There it's all written out." 
With copperplate neatness she had rapidly written 
out the words, music and harmonies complete. 

Only those who heard her could imagine the 
brisk ringing time with which she sang this tune. 
It distressed her when told how slowly and 
drowsily it was sometimes given. 

Further extracts from the correspondence of the 
period will close the present chapter. 


I am waiting for the carriage to take me back to Oak- 
hampton, having been spending a few hours in Worcester, 
and seeing some old parishioners of years ago, who re- 
collect me as " little Miss Fanny." . . . The last 
two days I have been very busy, having spent the whole 
day before at Winterdyne, and even a day always throws 
me behind in letters, etc. I meant to rest here, but 
somehow there always seems to be too much to do. 
Such a very nice " open door " is set before me that I 


cannot but enter in, and so I have four different Bible 
classes a week ! besides which, as many cottagers as I 
can possibly visit are grateful for reading. Yesterday 
evening I had a "farmers' daughters" class; twelve 
came, but I think a few more will join. I enjoyed it 
extremely, was frightened and nervous beforehand, and 
unavoidable visitors detained and distracted me up to 
the last minute, which seemed most unfortunate, but 
probably cast me all the more upon Jesus and His 

strength. . . . Dear G , will you pray for my 

little work here. I do think that in each of my classes 
here there is something going on, and a most earnest 
spirit of attention among the servants. And will you ask 
that I may be kept near to Jesus. 

I have brought you a crystal and amethyst locket from 
Geneva. . . . They told me it was a quite new 
device, but somehow the novelty did not weigh with me 
in choosing for you, so much as the suggestiveness of the 
stones ; the very words " crystal and amethyst " are like 
a far gleam from the heavenly city. 

I have been thinking much lately of the Lord's loving- 
kindness in giving us so much wayside enjoyment, and 
so much present reward in all our work for Him. In 
spite of dark life enigmas, and real and heavy trials, and 
often keen inner conflict, not to mention daily burdens 
of weariness or anxiety or worry, we can set to our seal 
that His "ways are ways of pleasantness." For, over and 
above the great gifts, the " blessed hope " set before us, 
and the quiet " peace with God through our Lord Jesus 
Christ," what numbers of bits and drops of pleasure and 
delight one gets, which simply would not exist for us if 


we were not His children. Just look at Christian inter- 
course, the meetings without any cloud of suspicion or 
doubt of each other, the consciousness of true sweet 
sympathy, the thrill that one does feel when His beloved 
name is named ; all this, even with Christian acquaint- 
ances, is a great deal more than all the pleasure or good to 
be got out of any worldly intimacy or friendship so called. 
I want to hand over to you what I have been enjoying 
very much this week, a simple thought enough, but so 
nice. Dr. Candlish gives (in his beautiful book on the 
First Epistle of St. John) as one of the proofs of " fellow- 
ship with the Father," etc., our sympathy of aim, His 
cause being our cause, His kingdom and its advancement 
our interest, what interests Him interests us, and so on. 
This seemed al once to transfigure all one's daily life, 
and poor little small efforts to speak or write or work 
for God, and to exalt it into "fellowship." I cannot 
convey to you how much I enjoyed it, and what a bright 
reality and force it gave to the words " TRULY our fellow- 
ship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus 
Christ." I like to think how impossible it would be to 
untwine Christ and the things of Christ from our life, 
inner and outer ; when one comes to think about it He 
is so really and truly interwoven with our life that one 
seems to feel the " no separation " not merely as a grand 
promise, but an actuality which cannot be otherwise. 



Circular letters Sunset on the Faulhorn Ormont Dessus 
Interruptions to poems Other work done " Little Pillows," 
etc. Swiss singing That great transfer A musical 
reverie Return to England Bright work and results. 

WE give extracts from F. R. H.'s circular 
letters on her journey to Switzerland in 
1874, with her niece Constance Crane, other 
friends (Elizabeth, Margaret, and Bessie) joining 
in their mountain excursions. 

" Sunset on the Faulhorn ! " All day there had been 
strange rifts in the clouds, and sudden pictures of peaks 
or of abysses framed in white and grey ; but towards 
seven o'clock the wind rose, and there was a grand outpour 
of colour upon everything, sky, clouds, and mountains. 

Imagine yourself midway between heaven and earth, 
the sharp point of rock on which we stood hardly seem- 
ing more of earth than if we had been in a balloon, the 
whole space around, above, and below filled with wild, 
weird, spectral clouds, driving and whirling in incessant 
change and with tremendous rapidity ; horizon none, but 
every part of where horizon should be, crowded with un- 
imaginable shapes of unimagined colours, with rifts of 
every shade of blue, from indigo to pearl, and burning 
with every tint of fire, from gold to intense^ red ; shafts 


of keen light shot down into abysses of purple thousands 
of feet below, enormous surging masses of grey hurled 
up from beneath, and changing in an instant to glorified 
brightness of fire as they seemed on the point of swallow- 
ing up the shining masses above them ; then, all in an 
instant, a wild grey shroud flung over us, as swiftly pass- 
ing and leaving us in a blaze of sunshine j then a bursting 
open of the very heavens, and a vision of what might be 
celestial heights, pure and still and shining, high above 
it all ; then, an instantaneous cleft in another wild cloud, 
and a revelation of a perfect paradise of golden and rosy 
slopes and summits ; then, quick gleams of white peaks 
through veilings and unveilings of flying semi-transparent 
clouds ; then, as quickly as the eye could follow, a rim 
of dazzling light running round the edges of a black 
castle of cloud, and flaming windows suddenly pierced 
in it ; oh, mother dear, I might go on for sheets, for it 
was never twice the same, nor any single minute the 
same, in any one direction. At one juncture a cloud 
stood still, apparently about 200 yards off, and we each 
saw our own shadows gigantically reflected on it, sur- 
rounded by a complete rainbow arch, but a full circle of 
bright prismatic colours, a transfiguration of our shadows 
almost startling, each moreover seeing only their own 
glorification ! When the whole pageant, lasting nearly 
an hour, was past, we sang " Abide with me," and then 
the dear old joyous " Glory to Thee, my God." 

ORMONT DESSUS, September. 

This second month of my Swiss journey is altogether 
different from the first, for now I am making writing the 
first thing instead of idleness. I am doing it quite in 


moderation, and taking plenty of fresh air as well ; one 
can be out half the day and yet get four or five gooc 1 
hours writing as well, under these circumstances, when 
there are no other calls upon time or strength whatever ; 
and this combination of work and leisure is very delightful. 
Besides, I feel as if I had got quite a fresh start with that 
month's rest ; it seems as if nature had then walked into 
my brain and taken possession (turning me out mean- 
while), and given it a kind of spring cleaning ! rubbing 
up the furniture, and fresh papering some of the rooms, 
and cleaning the windows ! That perpetual " moving 
on," which some so delight in, does not suit me nearly 
so well as staying in a place and taking it easy. The 
weather has been so much colder and more variable, 
since I changed my pieties, that the two things coincided 
beautifully; for, except two days, it has been too cold the 
last fortnight for any sitting out of doors. 

I don't know why I always seem to shrink from writing 
much, or even anything, of the " under the surface " 
life, (which is so much more than the " on the surface " 
and the mere surroundings,) in my circulars. They would 
be much fuller if I told one tithe of the hourly bits of 
gentle guidance and clear lovingkindness which make the 
real enjoyment, or of the perpetual little opportunities of 
a " word for Jesus " which He seems to give me, and 
often of real work for Him, which yet seems to come so 
unsought, so easily and naturally, so altogether without 
any effort, as to be not felt to be any working at all. 
Now I will give you an instance of how He took me at 
my word the other day. It was one of the few warm 
days, and I established myself with pen and ink in a 
shady nook by a little, steep, . down -hill torrent. I had 


suddenly got that sort of strong impulse to write on a 
certain theme, without which I never do my best, but 
with which I always do my best poems. The theme was 
a grand one ("The Thoughts of God") ; I had thought 
of it for months, and never before had this impulse to 
begin upon it ; though, once begun, I expected it to be 
one of my best poems. I spent a little time in prayer 
first, and then the warning and the promise in Jeremiah 
xv. 19 came strongly to my mind : "if thou take forth the 
precious from the vile, thou shalt be as My mouth." I 
felt that wanted looking into ; I wanted Him to take forth 
the precious from the vile for me, and to reveal and purge 
away, then and there, all the self and mingled motive 
which would utterly mar the work that I wanted to be for 
His glory. After that the question came, was I had He 
made me just as willing to do any^little bit of work for 
Him, something for little children or poor people, simple 
and unseen, as this other piece of work, which might win 
something of man's praise ? Then, I was intensely happy 
in feeling that I could tell HIM that I had no choice at all 
about it j but would really rather do just what He chose 
for me to do, whatever it might be. However, there 
seemed nothing else to do, so I began my poem. I don't 
think I had written four lines when a labourer with a 
scythe came along a tiny path to drink at the stream a 
few yards below me. He did not see me, and started 
when I hailed him and offered him a little book. He 
climbed up to receive it, and then, instead of departing 
as I expected, deliberately sat down on a big stone at 
my feet, and commenced turning over the leaves, and 
evidently laying himself out to be talked to. So here 
was clearly a little call ; and I talked to him for some 



time, he being very interested and responsive. Just as 
he was going to move off, two lads, of about fifteen and 
eighteen, his sons, came crashing through the bushes ; I 
don't recollect whether the father beckoned them or not, 
anyhow up they came, and he quietly sat down again, 
and they sat down too, and seemed quite as willing to 
listen to the " old, old story " as he had been, only I 
could not get so much out of them. At last the whole 
crew departed, and I was just collecting my thoughts and 
reviving the aforesaid "impulse," when in about ten 
minutes the younger lad reappeared, with his sister, a 
girl of about seventeen. They did not say a word, but 
scrambled straight up to me, and, seating themselves at 
my feet, looked up into my face, saying by their look as 
plain as any words, " Please talk to us ! " What could 
one do but accede ! and they stayed at least another half 
hour, so quiet and interested that one could not but hope 
the seed was falling on " good ground." The girl, Fe'licie, 
was more communicative than the lads, very simple, but 
intelligent. By the time they departed a good part of 
the morning was gone, and the " impulse " too ! but I 
enjoyed the morning probably twice as much as if I had 
done a good piece of my poem ; and it seemed so clear 
that the Master had taken me at my word, and come 
and given me this to do for Him among His " little ones," 
and that He was there hearing and answering and accept- 
ing me, that it was worth any amount of poem-power. 

However, next day the " impulse " came again, which 
is by no means always the case when once interrupted ; 
and once fairly started, I have worked out what I think is 
perhaps the best poem I ever wrote, so far as I can judge. 

But this is only one of constant instances which I 


could tell. I do so feel that every hour is distinctly and 
definitely guided by Him. I have taken Him at His 
word in everything, and He takes me at my word in 
everything. Oh, I can say now that Jesus is "to me 
a living bright Reality," and that He really and truly is 
" more dear, more intimately nigh, than e'en the sweetest 
earthly tie." No friendship could be what I find His 
to be. I have more now than a few months ago, even 
though I was so happy then ; for the joy of giving my- 
self, and my will, and my all to Him seems as if it were 
succeeded, and even superseded, by the deeper joy of a 
conscious certainty that He has taken all that He led me 
to give ; and " I am persuaded that He is able to keep 
that which I have committed unto Him": so, having 
entrusted my very trust to Him, I look forward ever 
so happily to the future (if there be yet much of earthly 
future for me) as " one vista of brightness and blessed- 
ness." Only I do so want everybody to " taste and see." 
Yesterday I somehow came to a good full stop in my 
writing much earlier than I expected, and asked what He 
would have me do next, go on, or go out at once ? Just 
then a young lady came in ; " Had I just a few minutes 
to spare ? " So I went out with her at once. She had 
overheard a short chat I had had some days ago with 
another, didn't know what, but it had set her longing for 
something more than she had got. She had started out 
for a walk alone, thinking and praying, and the thought 
came to her to come straight to me, which she seemed 
to think an unaccountably bold step. Well, God seemed 
to give me exactly the right message for her, just as with 

Miss M last week, the two cases starting from a very 

different level but the result the same, a real turning point. 


Don't conclude, however, from these that I am always 
seeing results, because I am not ; but that I am entirely 
content about, just as He chooses it to be. 

It has occurred to me that, as I profess to be 
"writing," you will expect a new book as the result, and 
will be disappointed ; so I tell you simply what I have 
written, and what I am going to write. 

" Our Swiss Guide." Article for Sunday Magazine, 
on the spiritual analogies in all sorts of little details of 

"For Charity." Song for Hutchings and Romer. 

" Enough." Short sacred poem. 

" How much for Jesus ? " A sort of little true story 
for children ; for an American edition.* 

" True Hearted." New Year's Address (in verse) for 
Y. W. C. A., for January 1875. 

" Tiny Tokens." A small poem for Good Words. 

" Precious Things." A poem. 

" A Suggestion." Short paper for Home Words. 

" The Precious Blood of Jesus." A hymn. 

" The Thoughts of God." The aforesaid poem. 

" Shining for Jesus." Verses addressed to my nieces 
and nephews at Winterdyne. 

" New Year's Wishes," by Caswell's request, for a very 
pretty card. 

These are all written, and copied, and done with. 
Next week, D.V., I set about what I have long wanted 

* This manuscript we have no clue to ; any information concern- 
ing it would be acceptable. 


to do : " Little Pillows," thirty-one short papers as a 
little book for children of, say, twelve years old ; a short, 
easily recollected text, to go to sleep upon for each night 
of the month, with a page or two of simple practical 
thoughts about it, such as a little girl might read every 
night while having her hair brushed. I think this will 
take me about a fortnight to write and arrange for press ; 
adding probably a verse or two of a hymn at the end of 
each of the little papers. There are lots of little monthly 
morning and evening books for grown up people, but I 
don't know of one for children except those containing 
only texts. I dare say I shall get in somehow three 
other little poems that want writing (being on the 
simmer) : "The Splendour of God's Will," "The Good 
Master," and (don't be startled at the transition) " Play- 
things " ; also " Johann von Allmen," a little article for 
the Dayspring. I can clear off things easily here, espe- 
cially through not having so many letters. If I could 
manage three months every year in a Swiss or Welsh 
valley, I should keep my printer going. 

ORMONT DESSUS, September 29, 1874. 

I don't know whether there is enough of interest for a 
final circular. Not being sure of your address, the last 
went to Maria. . . . The last week at the Ormont 
Dessus the weather was perfect, and, without being un- 
pleasantly hot, was warm enough for sitting out not 
merely in the sunshine but in the moonlight too. Sunday 
was one of the most exquisite days imaginable, brilliantly 
clear, the autumn tints throwing in touches of crimson 
and gold in splendid contrast to the pine woods, and 


(what is so rare in Switzerland) the noon and afternoon 
as glowing as the morning, everything vivid all day. At 
the little French service I soon saw we had " somebody" 
in the pulpit, and it was M. de Pressense, who is, I have 
been told, one of the first French orators. His sermon 
was both eloquent and good. The people sing beau- 
tifully, a downright treat, in German choral style as to 
music, slow rich harmonies that bear dwelling on ; one 
tune was Cassel, No. 190 in " Havergal's Psalmody." It 
was such sweet singing, every one keeping to cres. and 
dim., neither instrument nor apparently any stated choir, 
but all the parts correctly sung by the congregation of 
peasants. ... I have finished not only " Little 
Pillows," but a little companion to it for morning use, 
"Morning Bells"; both manuscripts are ready for press. 
I do not think it is nearly so easy to write for children 
as for adults ; constantly I refrained from what I would 
most like to say about the texts, because it would not 
be simple enough for the little ones. I have purposely 
avoided any stories or anecdotes, lest children should 
skim the book through in search of them, instead of 
reading them night and morning steadily. At least I 
know that is what I should have done ! I do so hope 
these books will be really helpful to some of His little 
ones. . . . I am so sorry that I shall not see Miss 
Whately at Montreux \ I have a nice letter from her \ she 
has been delayed in England. You ask me how I am, 
dearest mother. Very well indeed ; those pleasant 
mountain ascents with Constance were delightful. She 
is a first rate Alpinist, and we both enjoyed getting over 
crevasses and glissading. Since then I have done 
nothing to tire myself, and in every way have set health 


first ; I do wish to be very prudent, only by prudence I 
don't mean idleness. I sought to gain health and 
strength, that I might use it on my return. . , . 

I had a short conversation with two respectable men 
from West Bromwich, who had been for a Swiss holiday 
with Cook's tickets. They applied to me to interpret 
something for them, and this led to a little talk which 
drifted as usual into better things, and I found a decided 
response. I had alluded to Christ's finished work for 
us, when one of them answered quietly, "Yes, it's a 
transfer, that's the word. The last three days I have 
had that word always in my mind ; that's just what it is, 
a transfer, He takes our sins and makes over to us His 
righteousness." Then he told me that he had met on the 
Rigi an invalid Irish clergyman, who seemed full of that 
one thing ; that he began telling him of Christ's finished 
work and he ended with it. " And I never saw it so 
clearly before, though I've been, so to say, looking about 
for it this long time ; it was worth all my journey to get 
hold of this truth. It seemed curious that such an ex- 
cellent clergyman should be obliged to give up his living 
from ill health and ordered abroad ; but he was sowing 
the seed in fifty places instead of one. Yes, that great 
transfer! It's blessed !" 

Was it not a nice instance of the real use of such seed 
sowing ? . . . 

. . . In the train I had one of those curious 
musical visions, which only very rarely visit me. I hear 
strange and very beautiful chords, generally full, slow 
and grand, succeeding each other in most interesting 
sequences. I do not invent them, I could not; they 
pass before my mind, and I only listen. Now and then 


my will seems aroused when I see ahead how some fine 
resolution might follow, and I seem to will that certain 
chords should come, and then they do come ; but then 
my will seems suspended again, and they go on quite 
independently. It is so interesting, the chords seem to 
fold over each other and die away down into music of in- 
finite softness, and then they z/;/fold and open out, as if 
great curtains were being withdrawn one after another, 
widening the view, till, with a gathering power and inten- 
sity and fulness, it seems as if the very skies were being 
opened out before one, and a sort of great blaze and 
glory of music, such as my outward ears never heard, 
gradually swells out in perfectly sublime splendour. This 
time there was an added feature : I seemed to hear 
depths and heights of sound beyond the scale which 
human ears can receive, keen, far-up octaves, like 
vividly twinkling starlight of music, and mighty, slow 
vibrations of gigantic strings going down into grand 
thunders of depths, octaves below anything otherwise 
appreciable as musical notes. Then, all at once, it 
seemed as if my soul had got a new sense, and I could 
see this inner music as well as hear it ; and then it was 
like gazing down into marvellous abysses of sound, and up 
into dazzling regions of what, to the eye, would have 
been light and colour, but to this new sense was sound. 
Wasn't it odd ! It lasted perhaps half an hour, but I 
don't know exactly, and it is very difficult to describe in 

The long letter ends with : 

I wish you had seen and heard the welcome my 
cousins gave me ! It was so nice, and altogether I am so 


well and happy ! It was curious, dearest mother, that 
you should send me Psalm ciii. 1-3, for my mind was 
specially full of it, only adding verses 4 and 5. I have 
so very much to thank Him for, and the beautiful 
sequence of five blessings seemed to sum it all up : " for- 
giveth," " healeth," " redeemeth," " crowneth thee with 
lovingkindness and tender mercies," and " satisfieth thy 
mouth with good things." And, really, I may add " so 
that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's," for I feel so 
mentally fresh and unweary, and my cousins say they never 
saw me looking so well. Hoping soon to reach home, 
herewith ends the circular series of 1874 ! 

Your very loving child. 

Returning from Switzerland in perfect health, 
much could be told of her active work. We are 
glad to be permitted to give one result of a visit, 
before returning home to Leamington, as a repre- 
sentative of many others. 


This is not a circular. Just pray for all here. 

is first-fruits ! full and joyous decision for Christ, singu- 
larly tested and acted on at once. I knew she was 
not happy. When alone, I asked why she should let 
days and weeks go by, drifting away in the cold. I told 
her I should leave her room after praying, and begged 
her to remain praying alone, and surrender her whole 
self to the Lord Jesus. By and by, the time came 
for her music practising. There was a ringingness in 
her touch, playing with such joyance. Presently, I 


went in and just put my arm round her : " Is it 
for Jesus ?" " Yes, I've made up my mind, it is all for 
/esus/" Every action spoke it, the smile and bright 
determination of her voice. Without any suggestion from 
me she told her mamma, the next day, that she could no 
longer act in a French play at school. Here was a test 
at once. We told her to "pray about it and trust." 
The governess was astonished at her decision, and the 
girls still more so. So the good confession was made, 
and she took her stand on the Lord's side at once, in a 
way which is a real crossing of the Rubicon at school. 
I never talk to girls about " giving up." . . . 

I sent my sister the address of a young stranger, 
thinking that a visit would comfort her, and know- 
ing how loyally she accepted work, but not know- 
ing how inconvenient and pressing it would be. 


I felt tempted to the old sense of pressure with your 
request, and cannot really possibly manage either of the 
calls you suggest, without getting totally overdone ; that 
I can't feel would be right. I know you will approve, 
for you and I always understand each other. 

Then follows the characteristic postscript : 

I have thought it over, and decide to telegraph to 
your friend to meet me at Willesden Station on my 
journey home, and I could stay an hour at the station 
with her. It will be well worth any fatigue if I can 
comfort her. 



A dark enigma Typhoid fever " Waiting at the golden gates" 

Coming back from them Winterdyne Relapse Oak- 
hampton The ministry of kind servants Return to work 

Letters Gleams Whitby {i Reality 1 " The old 
friend's letter Kindness of friends. 

" WHAT though to-day 

Thou canst not trace at all the hidden reason 
For His strange dealings through the trial season, 

Trust and obey ! 

Though God's cloud-mystery enfold thee here, 
In after life and light all shall be plain and clear." 

IN the latter part of this year (1874) came one 
of the strange enigmas of her life, stranger to 
our weaker faith than to her own implicit trust. 

Somehow or somewhere she caught fever, and 
commenced her homeward journey with dull head- 
ache and sickness. But she did not fail in that 
loving care for the stranger to whom reference was 
made on the preceding page ; and, through some 
mistake on her not arriving at Willesden, Frances 
waited an hour and a half, and then took her in the 
train some miles on her journey, that she might 


not forego the promised interview. This testimony 
was received after the conversation : " Oh, if I could 
only feel as she looked ; your sister Frances was 
so young and lovely, and I am glad I saw for once 
that God-satisfied face. A ray of hope came as 
she talked to me in the train. . . ." 

Home was reached, shiverings and feverish 
symptoms rapidly set in, and she was soon utterly 
prostrate with typhoid fever. All that motherly 
watchfulness, medical skill, and trained nursing 
could do failed to arrest the attack. About the 
middle of November the balancings of our hopes 
and fears were just between life and death. Prayer 
was made unceasingly for the life so dear to us, 
and even special prayer meetings were held to 
plead for one known so widely, though principally 
by her writings. Our prayers and cries and 
tears were answered, and our beloved one was 

Some weeks after she told me many things 
which may be profitable to others. 

" All through my long illness I was very happy ; the 
first part was the most painful, I think it must have been 
neuralgia with the fever. I don't really think I was 
impatient deep down in my heart, and yet the pain and 
agony I was in made me anxious for the poultices, and 
to try anything. I do think I am sensitive to pain, and 
what was agony to me would be slight to others. My 


one wish was to glorify God and to let my doctor and 
nurse see it ; so at the very first I determined to ask for 
nothing and just obey. Nothing could exceed dear 
mother's kindness and tenderness to me day and night, 
and getting everything I wished for. For some time, 
even in those bright days in the Ormont Dessus, I had 
a presentiment that, may be, my faith would be tried, and 
that my Father would not leave me without chastise- 
ment. Not that I think illness such a trial as many 
others I have gone through; oh, it's nothing to unseen 
trials ! Besides, you get such sympathy in illness, and I 
knew many would pray for me. Only, I did not want 
them to pray that I might get well at all. Sometimes I 
could not quite see His Face, yet there was His promise 
' I will never leave thee.' I knew He said it and that 
He was there." 

M. " Had you any fear at all to die ? " 

F. " Oh no, not a shadow. It was on the first day of 
this illness I dictated to Constance, * Just as Thou wilt, 

Master, call ! ' " 

M. " Then, was it delightful to think you were going 
home, dear Fan ? " 

F. " No, it was not the idea of going home, but that 
He was coming for me and that I should see my King. 

1 never thought of death as going through the dark valley 
or down to the river ; it often seemed to me a going up 
to the golden gates and lying there in the brightness, just 
waiting for the gate to open for me. ... I never 
before was, so to speak, face to face with death. It was 
like a look into heaven ; and yet, when my Father sent 
me back again, I felt it was His will, and so I could not 
be disappointed/' 


About the middle of January (1875) change of 
air was recommended, and I brought her to Winter- 
dyne. I remember that, just as we were assisting 
her into the carriage at our Leamington home, the 
telegram came with the almost sudden news of our 
dear brother Henry's death, but it was thought 
right not to tell her till the journey was over. 

Only a few days passed of comparative recovery, 
when a relapse set in, and she was again ill for 
many weeks. It was really delightful work to 
nurse one so patient, so thankful, so considerate ; 
and, when it seemed needful to relieve the servants, 
and send for a nurse, they pleaded to be let sit up 
in turn with " dear Miss Frances." 

Turning to my notebook I find some recollec- 

irmq whirh mav hp enven 

CJ ^ 

tions which may be given. 

January 29, 1875. Sitting by dear Frances she said 
to me, "Isn't He gracious not to send me so severe an 
attack as in November? I felt sure the night I was 
shivering that illness was coming again ; and, as I lay 
down, the sweet consciousness that I was just lying 
down in His dear hand was so stilling." 

"Marie, do you think this simile holds good, that 
when we cast our burden on the Lord, at our first 
prayer He cuts the strings that bind it on us ; then, if we 
give a leap, the burden will slide off, and we shall not 
go on toiling with it up the hill ! I mean, if we just 


thanked and praised Him, at once the burden would be 
clean gone ! " 

M. "Were you thinking of the burden of sin, dear?" 

F. " Yes, and other burdens ; specially aggravations 
of things that you have no strength to bear." 

M. " I suppose if He is carrying us, then He carries 
our burdens too." 

F. " Yes, that was our text last night, ' I will carry ' ; 
if carried, no weight on us at all." 

M. " I think carrying is His first and last act ; when 
He finds the lost sheep He lays it on His shoulder and 
just carries it all the way, even into His fold above. 
It will be nice to see Him, Fan ! " 

F. " 'Nice,' I like that ; but I never heard any one but 

you say it just like that, except Mary . She once 

told me of a missionary and his wife who had reached 
the end of their voyage to India, and were to have 
landed that night but were prevented ; a sudden cyclone 
arose, and the ship and all in it went down instant- 
aneously. Mary added, ' Was it not nice ? ' " * 

My dear sister always enjoyed the early 
morning air for a few minutes, and often we had 
sweet talks before the break of day, and then she 
would get a little sleep. 

Sunday, February i, I found her very exhausted, and 
moaning with pain. She said : " No sleep last night, 
Marie. The Master wants me to bring forth more fruit, 

* " Nice, nice, nice indeed ! " were the last words of Fanny 
Bickersteth, See "Doing and Suffering." 


more patience." I said : " The Husbandman must be 
very near when He is pruning the branch, and He is 
the God of patience." 

F. "That's nice." 

Another morning I said : " I will give you your 
Morning Bell, ' Thou hast given me the shield of Thy 
salvation.' " 

F. "His shield is the biggest and brightest ! I want 
you to ask some of His praying people to pray for me ; 
it's not I suppose a question of recovery, but that it 
may be blessed and sanctified to me. But I know the 
Lord Jesus is praying for me." 

M. "Yes, and He prays even before the trial or tempt- 
ation comes to us, as He said to Peter, * But I have 
prayed for thee.' " 

F. "And He must have presented all those inter- 
cessions for Peter before they heard him knocking at 
the door." 

After some days Frances was so extremely ill, 
that we telegraphed for our mother to come to 
Winterdyne. Remarking to Frances that dear 
mother was so wise, and that I could always trust 
her judgment in illness, she added, " Yes, and 
such watchfulness and handiness too." 

When our dear mother arrived Frances said, " I 
am trusting Him for every bit of the way." 

Mother. "Yes, dear, and He will not bring us 
by the right way and then leave us in the midst." 

F. " But perhaps the vessel won't get in just the 
tack she expects to." 


After the feverish attack had passed, she suffered 
very much from supervening results; but even when 
in acute pain would say lively things, to divert our 
thoughts from herself. The servants were indeed 
astonished at her cheerful patience ; and I well 
remember a remark she made to me : " Oh, Marie, 
if I might but have five minutes ease from pain 1 
I don't want ever to moan when gentle sister Ellen 
comes in. How I am troubling you all ! " 

M. " But, Fan ! we should not think it trouble 
to minister to the Lord Jesus ! " 

F. "Well no, I only hope relationship won't 
preclude a big * inasmuch ' for you all." 

" . . , It's no mistake, Marie, about the bless- 
ing God sent me December 2, 1873 ; it is far more 
distinct than my conversion, I can't date that, I am 
always happy, and it is suck peace ; I could not help 
smiling when my kind doctor said, ' I dare say you 
feel rather depressed.' I said : ' No indeed ! quite 
happy, only tired and want to be quiet.' Of 
course I should like to be at work, and it seems 
strange how often I am hindered from it. You are 
always pegging away ; but I like to think I shall 
serve Him up there, and I would rather serve than 
rest. . . . The work I should so like to take up 
is drawing-room Bible readings ; I so enjoyed one 
I took down at Bocking, but was rather startled to 
see the good folks taking notes ! You see, I had 



just overcome the nervousness I used to feel, and I 
could so trust about this also." 

Another day Frances said : " I think my special 
anticipation of heaven is seeing the Lord Jesus 
exalted, glorified, vindicated, reigning King of 
kings, and all His enemies owning Him." 

M. " Have you thought that as, in the Gospels, 
Christ's special manifestations were to people when 
alone, so when we first see Him in heaven it will 
be alone ? " 

F. " Yes, and that is most beautifully brought 
out in Mr. Bickersteth's ' Yesterday, To-day, and 
For ever/ it's the very gem of the book. When I 
read it, and came to where the angel leaves him 
waiting for the King to come, I almost trembled 
as I turned the page ; for, if Mr. B. had treated 
it with a light hand, it would have been profane ; 
but it's lovely." 

" I have been thinking, Marie, how much more 
God gives me than I need. Look at this illness ! 
Well, except the bearing it, there is no other sting 
in it. I feel illness is the least trial, and it comes 
so directly from the hand of God. And how kind 
they all are to me ! Winterdyne always seems to 
me a sort of millennial household ! " 

Her recovery was extremely slow, but her room 
was the brightest in the house. At last she 


was carried downstairs, but for some time used 
crutches. Needlework for the Zenana Missions 
was a great enjoyment to her. Sitting by her one 
day she told me her reasons for giving up singing 
at the Philharmonic. " It is a long time ago that 
I made the choice of singing sacred music only. I 
did so some months before I wrote : 

' Take my lips, and let me sing, 
Always, only, for my King.' 

I was visiting at Perry Villa when Dr. Marshall 
sent me the programme of the next Kidderminster 
concert, and strongly urged me to sing the part of 
Jezebel in the 'Elijah/ saying that he could not 
depend on any one else for it. I knew I could do 
it ; for once, at the practice, the doctor said I 
threw such life into it. Mentioning it to Mr. 
Snepp, he expressed surprise, and his words struck 
me : ' How can a Christian girl personate Jezebel ? ' 
So I thought about it, saw the inconsistency, and 
gave it up. I think the last thing I sang in the 
hall was ' Come unto Him ! ' Then at Leamington, 
the first large party I went to, they asked me to 
sing, and I sang { Whom having not seen ye love.' 
Every one seemed astonished, and especially some 
Christian girls who had begun to think music could 
not be for the King's service, and were rather 
rebelling at their daily practice. They had never 


thought of consecrating their voices and fingers, 
but began from thenceforth. I would advise any 
one thoroughly to master one song, make it part of 
yourself, throw your whole self into it, then pray it 
may be His message, and it will be all right. For 
myself, I have more confidence in singing Scripture 
words than any other, because they are His. And, 
Marie dear, as I sing I am praying, too, that it 
may soothe or reach some one, though I may 
never know whom." 

" I have been resting lately on ' The Lord is my 
portion.' All else is so unsatisfying, and even the 
best earthly gifts fail to reach the true depths of 
the heart. I do so love that hymn : 

' To Thee, O dear, dear Saviour, 
My spirit turns for rest/ 

What could we do without Him in this lonely 
world of shadows ? And He will not let us do 
without Him ! And may we not reverently and 
wonderingly say, ' Neither can He do without us !' 
His people are so entwined around His heart that 
it must be so. 

" I have also been thinking that only the Holy 
Spirit can teach any one the mystery of 'the 
blood which cleanseth from all sin.' For years 
I believed it, without seeing as I do now into 
the mystery, and there are depths yet unseen, 


which God's Spirit reveals as His work of sancti- 
fication goes on." 

We are kindly allowed to insert two or three 
letters of this period. 

WINTERDYNE, February 22, 1875. 


I want to thank you for all your prayers for me. Only, 
only, have the prayers of my dear friends held me back 
from going to be with the Beloved One ? Or is it that 
He has some more little work for me to do, and so has 
only been richly answering all your prayers in the "perfect 
peace " in which He has kept me ? Oh, He has been so 
tenderly gracious to me ; it has been such gentle, faithful 
lovingkindness all through. It seems worth even coming 
back from the very golden gates if I may but in some 
way " tell of His faithfulness." I do wish people would 
but trust Jesus out and out, and give themselves up 
utterly to Him ; and then wouldn't they find rest to their 
souls ! But it will be a long waiting time yet, "at least 
six months " says my doctor, before I may write or do 
anything. But now just see how wonderfully kind He is 
to me. He has taken my will as I gave it to Him, and 
now I really am not conscious of even a wish crossing 
His will concerning me. I seem to be enabled to be 
PERFECTLY satisfied with whatever He chooses, and it is 
so nice. This is all of Him, otherwise I should fidget 
and kick ! Somehow, of late, I mean for many months, 
He seems not to have allowed the enemy to come near 
me. From the hour my illness began I have only had 
one dark hour, and that was when I thought my special 
prayer, "that this sickness might be for the glory of 

1 66 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

God," had been denied, for I felt I had not " glorified 
Him in the fires," because, after I had lost all my 
strength, I could not bear the pain without moaning and 
crying out, and showing eagerness for remedies. But He 
so tenderly assured me of pardon, and gave me " He 
knoweth our frame," that even that cloud soon passed. 
In this second illness He has mercifully spared me any 
recurrence of such pain, only laying upon me discomfort 
enough to exercise the patience which has perhaps been 
His chief lesson for me. Perhaps you and other dear 
friends will be disappointed. I know you expect that 
the Master will give me new and fuller messages for 
others after all this. But I really do not know what He 
has been teaching me ; I do not seem conscious (at 
present) of having gained anything for others; it has 
been just lying fallow. For myself I feel as if it had 
intensified my trust ; I do trust Him utterly, and feel as 
if I could not help trusting Him ; it seems to " come 
natural " now ! And " I will fear no evil " seems a 
natural sequence ; what should I fear ? There is no 
terror in anything when " safe in the arms of Jesus," and 
nothing can take me out of them. The marvellous way 
in which God has inclined you especially, and others too, 
to pray for me does seem such a token of His incom- 
prehensible love to me, that I see I need an eternity to 
praise Him to my heart's content ! Now, dear friend, 
I am asking Him that, somehow, and in His own time, 
He would graciously let me, even me, be the means of 
some new sweet blessing to you, perhaps to your people 
too, as a tiny return for all your loving prayers for me. 

Do you think that the Lord does show unto His 
servants things which must shortly come to pass? It was 


so strange that, while perfectly well and strong in Swit- 
zerland, I had a constant presentiment that some form of 
physical suffering would be the next step in His dealings 
with me, that His loving wisdom would see it needful for 
me. But I had not a vestige of fear or shrinking j I 
rather felt I could welcome it, if it might but make me 
more " meet for the Master's use." So I was not a bit 
surprised when the illness came. 

How infinitely blessed it is to be entirely Christ's ! To 
think that you and I are never to have another care or 
another fear, but that Jesus has undertaken simply 
everything for us ! And isn't it grand to have the 
privilege of being His instruments ? It does seem such 
loving condescension that He should use us. 

I don't know when I shall get downstairs ; much too 
weak as yet. But I am in no hurry, He will give me 
strength at the right time. Yours, etc., etc. 

WINTERDYNE, February 1875. 

Your letter came on the evening of a day of more than 
usual languor, after a bad night, and it was spiritual 
salvolatile to me ! I am so glad to hear of your ten. 

Many thanks for your remembrance of me on Wednes- 
day evening, and for letting me have the pleasure of 
joining you. Will you tell your "band" that God seemed 
to put it into my heart, in a very special way, to pray that 
they all might be soul-winners, and at once ! No waiting 
for further orders, they have got their commission now : 
" let him that heareth say, Come ! " And I prayed 
long at Acts iv. 29, 30, for them; "grant unto Thy 
servants," etc. But there must be power from on high, 

1 53 MEMORIALS OF F. R. If. 

or they are helpless; and I asked that this might be 
given. Then, I think the Master gave me a special 
text for them, will you ask them to take it each one as 
from Him : " Behold I give you power over all the power 
of the enemy, and nothing shall by any means hurt you." 
Why, it is grand \ "power over all the power of the 
enemy ! " Just where he is strongest, there they shall 
prevail ; not over his weak points and places, but over 
the very focus of his power ; not over his power here and 
there, or now and then, but over all his power. And 
Jesus said it ! Isn't it enough to go into any battle with ! 
And it is not future ; not " I will give," but present, now : 
" I give unto you," " unto you" to every one whom 
He sends out, to every one of your dear " ten," if they 
will but put out the hand of faith to take it. One hardly 
seems to need any addition to this, and yet His tender 
love adds the personal assurance, "nothing shall by 
any means hurt you." Nothing, really and absolutely 
nothing ! So there is not the least loophole left for the 
shadow of a fear to steal in. No end to the promise, it 
won't leave off, good for every day and moment all along, 
" till glory." Now, with such a clear commission and 
such an inspiring promise, which of your " ten " will be 
content to let another day pass without an attack upon 
" the power of the enemy " ? When shall I hear of the 
victories that must follow ? You will tell me of them, 
won't you ? I want each one of your " ten " to begin at 
once to work out with God the fulfilment of Isaiah xlix. 25, 
so that numbers of captives may be delivered from the 
enemy, and led as blessed, willing, rejoicing captives in 
the triumph of Jesus Christ. I should like also to send 
to your " loving F " "more than conquerors through 


Him that loved us," and to your " little S - >; Jeremiah 
i. 7. Why, only think if he begins winning souls at 
fourteen, and goes straight on, (God sparing him,) what 
splendid sheaves he will have to lay at the Master's feet ! 
Will you ask them to send me a text for myself. 

In what I have said I need hardly say I do not forget 
the other side, that " no man can come to Me except," etc. 
and so on ; but then is not the seeking and obtaining His 
power a proof that we are on the track of His purposes ? 
" Thy people shall be willing in the day of Thy power," 
and it is only in " Thy power " that we hope to succeed. 
I rejoice in your joy in Him. How good He is to us ! 

I never find that He fails to respond to trust; it 
is indeed "whatsoever" in its fulness. And now I see 
that "able" means able, and " all" means all. Do 
you not find that, even in proportion as we realize 
this marvellous power upon us and in us, we realize 
as never before our utter dependence upon it, and utter 
weakness without it, AND our utter vileness and sinful- 
ness were the cleansing power of His precious blood 
withdrawn for one moment ! But why should we ever 
refuse to believe in its glorious fulness ? (i John i. 7.) 

I keep wondering every day what new lovingkindness 
is coming next ! It is such a glorious life ! And the 
really leaving EVERYTHING to Him is so inexpressibly 
sweet, and surely He does arrange so much better than 
'we could for ourselves, when we leave it all to Him. 


DEAR J - , 

/ realize, " Lord, I have given my life to Thee, and 
every day and hour is Thine." For, literally, every hour 


seems in His hand, and filled with His work in some 
form or other, either preparation, actual service, or, as 
now, weakness and pain. It is quite marvellous how He 
really seems answering my prayer that He would accept 
my whole life, down to its very moments. 

. . . It always seems to me the worst compliment 
possible to our dear Church of England, when a certain 
class of minds regard anything which has a little extra 
life, and love, and warmth, and glow, as being, well 
suspicious ! As if WE are never to ask, and never to 
expect, and never to have any such extra blessing as He 
is pouring out in our very midst ! 

In April, 1875, it was thought desirable that my 
sister should try change of air; and on the 3rd 
the Winterdyne servants gathered round for fare- 
well words, and she thanked them warmly for all 
their kindness, adding : " It was a great comfort, 
in my illness, the way in which you waited upon 
me; I saw you never grudged the trouble I gave 
you ; that would have distressed me. Remember, 
God's promises are for each of you ; faith is just 
holding out your hand, and taking them. It is 
what I am learning every day; it makes me 
happy, and I want all of you to be always happy, 
trusting in the Lord Jesus." 

One inscription written in the books she gave 
them is : " Fanny Holloway, with the writer's 
warm thanks for her great kindness and atten- 


tion during her illness at Winterdyne, January 
to April, 1875. 'INASMUCH.' (Matt. xxv. 40.)" 

A short drive to Oakhampton, and there all 
the comforts of her eldest sister's pleasant home 
awaited her. 

Frances' constant consideration for the servants, 
wherever she visited, secured the most loving 
service. Bible readings in the servants' halls, 
kind talks alone, and helpful prayers are all 
remembered. The large reference Bibles she 
gave them are treasured remembrances of this 
visit. She was delighted when every servant 
at Oakhampton joined the Christian Progress 

(To J. T. 

OAKHAMPTON, April 1875. 
DEAR MR. W -- , 

I see now ! And the whole thing is brightened up 
splendidly! I both meant myself, and took your re- 
marks to apply, to " fallow" as to service and prepara- 
tion for service; and so, while I read them with great 
interest and pleasure, I did not get the full benefit of 
them, because I said, " Oh yes, but I am all right on 
this point ! " But I was all wrong on the point you 
aimed at, and by your second letter hit. I see that 
" lamenting " and " trusting " are not compatible ; and 
that, while I fancied I was trusting for everything, I was 
not trusting as to His spiritual dealings with me, and 
that I might rest as satisfied about this as about all else. 


Yes, I "could not read His prescription," but I can 
now take it without trying to spell it. I see that my 
growth in grace is His affair, and that He is certainly 
taking care of it, even though I don't see it. Only, 
I am so sorry I did not trust Him perfectly; it makes 
me feel that I shall henceforth mistrust myself more 
than ever, and yet trust Him more than ever. 

I am beginning to taste a little bit of the real blessed- 
ness of waiting. One does not wait alone, for He waits 
too. Our waiting times are His also. I have been so 
delighted with the two "waits" in Isaiah xxx. 18, surely 
it implies a fellowship of waiting. 

(To the same.) 

April, 1875. 

I must just begin a letter to you. Intercourse, even 
by letter, with real and dear Christian friends, is one of 
the pleasures which one only sips here, but don't you 
think it will be a great delight above? I have been 
thinking how nice it will be to have a long talk with 
you in heaven, in the grand leisure of eternity, and 
interchange the blessed things which the Master will (I 
suppose) be showing and saying to each, with just as 
much individuality of revelation as here. Perhaps I 
look forward to this peculiarly, because I have so very 
many congenial Christian friends whom I rarely see, and 
correspondents, known and unknown, with whom I 
cannot have the intercourse I would; and, owing to 
my delicate health, there have always been so many 
interruptions to communications, and of late so much 
entire isolation. But I think you probably have the 
same keen anticipation, for you can't have time on earth 


for much " sweet counsel " ! And how well we can 
afford to wait for some of our " good things " ! 

Nearly nine months, since I was last at morning family 
worship ! I was in almost too great spirits about it, 
which is not good for me, and of course I had to 
subside, and go and lie down for a considerable part of 
the morning j still it was quite an epoch ! After four 
months' illness and weakness, I am told that I must not 
expect to be able for any sort of work for at least six 
months longer ; but I do not feel one regret. Somebody 
wrote to me about resignation the other day ; but I don't 
feel as if the word suited at all ; there is an undertone of 
" feeling it rather hard nevertheless " in it, of submitting 
to a will which is different from one's own. He has 
granted me fully to rejoice in His will, I am not conscious 
of even a wish crossing it ; I do really and altogether 
desire that His will may be done, whatever it is. It was 
so sweet, when my second illness began, to lie down 
under His dear hand, not knowing how long or how 
much I might have to suffer, but perfectly happy and 
trustful about it, and quite satisfied that He should do 
with me just as He would. Oh, isn't it good of Him to 
have wrought this for me ! This terrible pain, I cannot 
feel that I wish it taken away a day sooner than His 
far-sighted faithful love appoints 

This morning I opened on Deuteronomy xxxii. 2, 
" My speech shall distil as the dew" It seemed a direct 
answer from Him, for one does not see the dew fall, one 
never sees it at all till morning, and then ! So perhapj 
He is speaking to me more than I think for, and, when 
the " afterward " comes, it may be that I shall find He 
nas said a good deal to me after ail ! Yours ever. 


(To the same.) 

I find (having fairly tried) that the whole gift of 
verse is taken from me. I think it will some day be 
restored (as once before after five years' suspension) ; 
but at present I could not write a hymn or poem. Thus 
God proves to me it is directly from Him, not a power 
to be used at my will, but only when He will ; and I 
would rather have it so. But, even if I were in full 
vein, I only consciously write up to my own experience ; 
so, though I might write what you would like to see on 
"Rest and Brightness," I should have to leave out 
praise for " power," because I do not feel that, as yet, 
God has ever endued me with that. It is not " come, 
see, and conquer," as to souls, with me as it is with you. 
I know some of my words do not fall to the ground, but 
most of them do ; and the blessing which He does seem 
to send with my printed writings, and sometimes with my 
letters, does not seem to me quite the same thing as the 
blessed " power " which some have. That reminds me, 
this morning I read 2 Corinthians iv. in the Greek, and 
was so wonderingly happy over that " far more exceeding 
weight of glory." I had not specially noticed the Greek 
before, how magnificently far reaching and strong it is ! 
I suppose "from glory to glory " is even here and now, 
and then to go beyond this to an eternal weight of glory, 
and then for this to be naff vTrcpftoXrjv cts vTreppoXfy, is 
such a marvellous leading on of finite thought into 
infinite glory ! It is like those flights that one now and 
then takes from planets to suns, and suns to star systems 
and cycles, and then away to the farthest nebulae, and 
then one sees no end, for imagination and analogy go on 


till they get lost in infinity. But to think that we are 
actually going right into all this glory, and have actually 
begun with it; having the earnest of the purchased 
possession now, and absolute certainty of all of it before 
long ! What are flights among stars and nebulae com- 
pared to this ! I have not thought it out, but I feel 
a connection between this and the Greek in Ephesians 
iii. 19. 

(ToJ. G. M. Kirchhofftr.) 


Thank you very much for your very pretty little ballad, 
and for the leaflets. I shall watch your pen, if we live, 
with much interest, and pray that you may be enabled to 
consecrate it, always and entirely, to our beloved Master. 
You will need to be very watchful, for Satan will try to 
sow tares among your wheat, and to introduce self into 
what we want to be only for Christ. 

But His grace is sufficient, and if He keeps you, by 
that grace, humble and looking unto Him, the gift He 
entrusts to you will be help to yourself, and I hope to 
many others, and the enemy will not be able to turn it 
into a hindrance. I am so glad you have been at work 
already for the dear old Irish Society, and with such 
thorough good will. Will you make it a matter of prayer ? 
It is often wonderful what unexpected opportunities God 
gives us when we ask. I have so often found it so in 
collecting for this very thing. Your taking the card was 
an answer to myself, for I was feeling rather disheartened 
that day in the work, and prayed that I might have some 
extra bit of success at last, as a token for good. And 
then you consented to collect, where I only looked for a 


single subscription. I am afraid it will be, still, a long 
time before I come home, but I hope to see you and your 
kind friends when I do. I send you one of rny favourite 
texts, "He is precious." Think of the absolute "is," 
always and unspeakably precious, whether we realize it 
or not. How little we know of His preciousness yet, 
but how much there is to know, and how much we shall 
know ! Press on then to find more of His preciousness. 

Yours affectionately. 

(Extracts from Letters to Miss E. J. Whately.) 

June 1875. 

. . . . Though I have had plenty of invalided 
times, and of short sharp suffering, this has been my very 
first experience of really severe and prolonged illness 
(since October) ; and I do not merely think I ought to 
feel, but I DO feel, that it was the crowning blessing of a 
year of unprecedented blessing and yet of many trials. 
" Great is Thy faithfulness " shines on every day of it ; 
and " I will fear no evil " is more than ever a very song 
to me. It was as if, while laying His own dear hand 
ever so heavily upon me, He kept the enemy completely 
at a distance, and did not let him even approach me, 
encompassing me with a wall of fire. . . . For three 
or four weeks I was too prostrate for any consecutive 
prayer, or for even a text to be given me ; and this 
was the time for realizing what " silent in love " meant 
(Zeph. iii. 17). And then it seemed doubly sweet when 
I was again able to " hold converse " with Him. He 
seemed, too, so often to send answers from His own 
word with wonderful power. One evening, (after a re- 
lapse,) I longed so much to be able to pray, but found I 


was too weak for the least effort of thought, and I only 
looked up and said, " Lord Jesus, I am so tired ! " And 
then He brought to my mind " rest in the Lord," with 
its lovely marginal reading, " be silent to the Lord," and 
so I just was silent to Him, and He seemed to over- 
flow me with perfect peace, in the sense of His own 
perfect love. It was worth anything to lie and think that 
it might be really " the Master's home call " ; but I do 
think it was worth almost more to find, when the tide 
turned, that He had really taken the will I had laid at 
His feet, and could and did take away all the disappoint- 
ment which I had fancied must be so keen at being 
turned back from the golden gates. I was more aston- 
ished at finding that He could make me quite as glad and 
willing to live and suffer, as to go straight away to heaven, 
than at anything, I think. And it is just the same now. 
I have no idea how long I may have to wait, for (though 
not now ill, but only invalided), what with relapses and 
results, I am making very slow progress, and not likely to 
be able for any sort of work for months yet : but I do 
so feel the truth of " blessed are they that wait for Him." 
It seems a necessary sequence of the first part of the 
verse, "therefore will the Lord wait," for waiting for 
Him is waiting WITH Him. I am breaking rules in 
writing so much, but I could not help wanting to tell you 
how very kind He has been to me, and I don't think any 
Christian could be more utterly unworthy than I of such 
gentle, gracious dealing. I doubted and mistrusted Him 
for so many years, and what I used to call " terrible 
conflict " I now see to have been simple unbelief. 

. . . . It is so nice to meet those with whom one 
is in full sympathy. One meets so many who only go 



such a little way ; I mean really Christians, yet taking 
such faint interest in Christ's cause and kingdom, all 
alive as to art, or music, or general on-goings, yet not 
seeming to feel the music of His name. One does so 
long for all who are looking to Him for salvation to be 
"true-hearted, whole-hearted." And I have been think- 
ing how inevitably such half-hearted Christians will be at 
a disadvantage when " He cometh," as compared with 
those whose whole gladness is from Him only, and 
whose whole interests are centred in His kingdom and 
that which advances it. 

With the return of health came a return to work. 
Her quick sympathy and loving help, by word 
and by letter, can hardly be represented. " Aunt 
Fanny always understands me " indicates the source 
of her influence. Pencil notes of hers, which are 
really treasures, lie before me, but only glimpses 
may be given. 

(/;/ the train} September 29, 1875. 

. . . I have been thinking so much and so sadly of 
the hint you gave me. . . . We must be much in 
prayer about it. For yourself, dear little thing, whatever 
the near bothers or the far griefs may be, you and all 
your " matters " are in the dear Saviour's hand, and He 
says, " My grace is sufficient for thee," and I like to 
take a still simpler Saxon word and say, " My grace is 
quite enough for thee." Yes, " quite enough," dear, for 
all the sorrows and all the trials, little ones as well as 


great, and all the weakness and all the insufficiency and 
all the coldness and hardness of heart, quite enough for 
you in spite of all ! 

(To the same.) 


Let the Lord lead you, let Him have you altogether. 
And, dear pet, blessing hardly ever comes alone ; if He 
has the joy of winning you altogether for Himself, He 
won't stop there, He will do more, He is doing so 
here. I do trust two of the servants are resting and 
trusting, and I quite hope the gardener has laid hold on 
eternal life; and I am expecting more for the angels 
to rejoice over. ... I feel most deeply for you. 
Keep very close to Jesus, my darling, and ask Him 
never to let you take back what you have now given 
Him. Be His entirely, without any reserve,, and He will 
be yours entirely. . . . 


If you knew how glad we all are ! But, better still, I 
know Jesus is glad. He wanted you, or He would not 
have drawn you. And now, dearie, just rest in Him. 
Listen to all He has to say, and you will find He has 
"somewhat to say to thee " every time you open His 
word. Listen, and obey whatever He says (John ii. 5). 
Mr. Mountain said, "our souls should be like aspen 
leaves, responsive to the least breath of the Spirit." 
Dear little thing, be one of the Lord's aspen leaves ; 
don't wait for great strong blasts, but yield to the least 
whisper from Him of " this is the way, walk ye in it." 
And, now, expect great things ! You don't know what 


He is going to astonish you with. " Open thy mouth 
wide, and I will fill it/' Go to work for Him at once, 
put your little sickle in, and see if the Lord does not 
make the sheaves fall before it ! Don't hold back from 
letting Him use you. Your blessing will probably, if you 
are quite faithful with it, result in fresh blessing all around 
you to those who have been blessed already, and who 
knows what to those who do not yet know the fulness 
of the blessing ! Keep trusting the Lord Jesus, or 
rather let Him keep you trusting, and draw every 
word from Him ; ask Him always, all day long, what to 
do, what to say. Pray Mr. Aitken's prayer : " Lord, 
take my lips and speak through them ; take my mind 
and think through it ; take my heart and set it on fire ! " 

Your loving aunt. 

P.S. Yes, sing for Jesus ! do all in the name of the 
Lord Jesus Christ. 

(To C. H.) 

You are all alone, so I must send you a line. How- 
ever, you will not find it very dismal in this lovely 
weather and the bright look out of seeing your dear ones. 
Last evening I was at a young women's meeting, and 
asked to sing, so I prayed the dear Master would let me 
bring them a message of song from Himself. There are 
so many "all for Jesus" Christians here. Seriously, 
dear Clement, if that is indeed our heart's motto, we 
find that Jesus is all for us, and all in all to us. I hit 
upon two little texts yesterday which fitted together 
beautifully. First, a prayer, " Do Thou for me, O 
Lord," did you ever notice it? " do Thou," just what- 
ever wants doing for us or in us, just whatever we 

1 DON'T HOLD BACK! " 181 

cannot do at all for ourselves. Then, if we really pray 
this, we shall follow it up with " God that performeth all 
things for me ! " Think of His simply doing every thing 
for you and me. What can we wish more ? 

Your loving aunt. 

" Don't hold back from letting Him use you ! " 
Loyal words, often repeated. A friend in Leam- 
ington remembers showing F. R. H. a letter she 
had received from Miss Weston, asking her to 
write " Monthly Letters for Seamen." Frances 
read the letter and said to Mrs. B., " What are 
you going to do ? Accept it of course ! " 

Mrs. B. " I am not fit for such a work. I 
know nothing of ships and sailors." 

F. " If you reject it, God does not want for 
instruments to do His work ; don't shrink from 
the honour He puts upon you." 

Such was her faithful encouragement. 

(To .) 

ASHLEY MOOR, September 1875. 
I can hardly say I am sorry for you, dear friend, 
although you tell me of suffering and trial, and although 
I feel very much for you in it ; because I am so sure the 
Master is leading you by the right way, and only means 
it to issue in all the more blessing. What mistakes we 
should make if we had the choosing, and marked out 
nice smooth paths for our friends ! It has struck me too, 
very much lately, that the Lord's most used and blessed 


workers are always almost weighted in some way or other. 
I don't know one who, to our limited view, is not work- 
ing under weights and hindrances of some sort, contrast- 
ing with mere professors who seem so much more favour- 
ably placed for what they don't do. . . . 

I am so very glad that He did not answer prayer for 
my recovery all those eight months of illness ; why I 
should have missed all sorts of blessing and precious 
teaching if He had ! But when one feels that He Him- 
self gives " the prayer of faith," then I would pray it 
" nothing doubting." 

After the i4th, my address will be Post Office, Whitby, 
Yorkshire. I am so thankful and rejoiced at what you 
tell me about the two ladies ; it is so gracious of Him to 
use my hymns. Yours, in His grace and love. 

In the autumn of 1875 Frances went to Whitby 
with Mr. and Mrs. Shaw ; en route she visited Miss 
Sadler and her sister, the friends of early days. 
She also enjoyed a visit to York Minster, and a 
pleasant interview with Dr. Dykes. 

It was at Whitby she heard, in the noon prayer 
meeting, the petition of a working man, " Father, 
we know the reality of Jesus Christ." The same 
evening she wrote the poem : " Reality, Reality, 
Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art to me." 

(To E. C.) 

WHITBY, September. 

I '. . So singular ! you know I have not been able 
to write verses at all for a long time, but reading a 


naughty article in set me going, and I wrote 

" Without Carefulness." Curiously enough, it was written 
just in time for the International Women's Christian 
Association Conference at New York. I was invited to 
this, and if I could not come, to write a poem to be 
read at it. I was going to answer " I can't write a line," 
when this came to me, and it will reach the committee 
just in time, though I did not write it with that intention. 
Then Mr. Shaw lent a copy to a friend, and reply came 
asking permission by telegraph to use it at another 
Conference. Had the article reached me a day later, 
it would have been too late for both ! 

Does not this look like God's hand ? It seemed like 
coming back into the stream again, out of the shadowy 
pool of silent waiting. Somehow, I don't feel enough 
physical strength to be at all eager to get into the current 
at present. . . . 

WHITBY, October, 1875. 

. . . I hope to be at home the end of next- week 
(but don't publish it, as I can't see everybody immedi- 
ately on arriving). 

Mamma is better, but has been so ill that it was a 
question whether she could reach England. I am so 
thankful for her. 

For myself, I have not been ill, though often poorly, 
since my last relapse in June ; but I decidedly do not 
get strong, and am not nearly so strong as before my ill- 
ness, even under these most favourable circumstances of 
bracing air, and nobody that trnist be seen, and nothing 
that must be done; so I am hardly likely to get any 


stronger at Leamington. I can do a little, write an hour 
or two, see one or two people, sing one song, go to 
church once on Sunday and subside all the rest of the 
day ; but that is the length of my tether. I came upon 
some verses which seem just to express it. 

" I am not eager, bold, or strong, 

All that is past ; 
I 'm ready not to do, 
At last, at last. 

My half-day's work is almost done, 

'Tis all my part ; 
I bring my patient God 
A patient heart." 

For I am quite satisfied to do half-day's work hence- 
forth, if He pleases ; and well I may be when I have 
plenty of proof that He can make a half-hour's work 
worth a whole day's if He will : yes, or half-a-minute's 
either ! 

... So curious your praise meeting (Young 
Women's Christian Association) being November iQth, 
for it will be the anniversary of my very worst day last 
year. You can't think how much I am looking forward 
to being at a meeting again, and to seeing you, and a few 
other special Y. W. C. A.'s. But I shall always have an 
idea that I was prayed back from the golden gates ! I 
can't think why God always so graciously lets me see 
such heaps of reasons for every trial He sends me. Why, 
as to this year of calling apart, I wouldn't have done 
without it if I could, and I couldn't have done without it 
if I would ; it seems to me a consummately wisely sent 


and wisely timed trial (only that I hardly like to use that 
word for it, except perhaps as regards the physical pain). 
1 want to tell everybody, now, that they need " fear no 

On page 5 we have already referred to our dear 
father's curate, Rev. F. JefTery, and his recollection 
of the early birthday crown of bay-leaves. That 
reference will make clear the allusions in the fol- 
lowing letter. 

December, 1875. 

If you only knew the gush of early recollections your 
beautiful little verses * brought up ! my birthday wreaths, 
and dear papa's and mamma's birthday kisses and wishes, 

The following are the verses referred to. 

To. F. R. H., on Her Birthday, December itf/i, 1875. 
" Nou sine Diis animosus infans." Horace. 

FANNY, canst thou still remember 
How, of old, they kept this day? 

How they marked thy fourth December, 
Crowning thee with wreath of bay ? 

" Child belov'd, these leaves poetic 
Hence shall aye to thee belong, 

Wear them as a wreath prophetic 
Of the Ministry of Song." 

Say not now thy task is ended ; 

Sing the lovely, pure, and true 
Sing until thy verse is blended 

With the Song for ever new. 

1 86 MEMORIALS OF F. R. If. 

which I always felt meant a great deal more than I could 
possibly understand. And now the Lord hath led me, 
not quite, but pretty nearly, the "forty years," though 
only the very old friends give me credit for much beyond 

How kind of you to recollect the little chit ! And how 
I should like to thank you personally for the pleasant re- 
membrance ! But I must tell you how refreshing it is, 
quite apart from the sentiment, to come across such 
trochaics. It is rarely that I light on such, among the 
thousands of hymns I have gone over in my work of 
" Songs of Grace and Glory "; yours have such a perfect 
ringing rhythm as very few seem to hit upon now-a-day. 

I have just begun to work a little, as a sort of " half- 
timer" (to use the factory expression), after twelve 
months of "calling apart": typhoid fever, which, with 
relapses and results, kept me ill for eight months, and 
part of the time very suffering, and then four months of 
very slow convalescence. But it has been the most 
precious year of my life to me. It is worth any suffering 
to prove for oneself the truth of " when thou passest 
through the waters I will be with thee," and worth being 
turned back (as it seemed) from the very golden gates, 
if one may. but "tell of His faithfulness." It is so 

Your own signature, dear Mr. Jeffery, makes the 
verses doubly valuable, written " in the shadow " (your 
darkness is the shadow of His hand). I do feel so 
much for you in your blindness ! How I should like to 
come and sing to you ! My dear mother is very bright 
in spirits but very suffering in body. 

Yours affectionately. 


PYRMONT VILLA, December 13, 1875. 


Nothing surprised me so much as, and nothing pleased 
me more than, your beautiful flowers and card. I have 
had a battle with mamma as to where they are to go ; she 
thinks them too good for her room, where I wanted to 
have the pleasure of putting them. However, I think 
I have won ! Thank you so much for them. I must 
tell you why they are such special pleasure : because I 
don't think you would have sent them if you had just 

simply hated all I said the other day. Dear , I 

never told you, but you can't think how I have longed 
for you ever since I first saw you. I have prayed for 
you again and again. I want you for Jesus ! It is not 
only that I want you to be safe in Him, I do want that j 
but I want you to be altogether His own, knowing all 
the sweet peace of being His very own, and using all 
your bright days for Him. I want you to be " all for 
Jesus." I do so long for you to give Him your heart 
and life now, so that you might never have the terrible 
sorrow of having only a death-bed to give Him ! And I 
am sure He wants you ; really and truly now, at this very 
moment, is waiting for you, and wanting you to come to 
Him and let Him show you His " exceeding great love." 
There are so few comparatively that are on His side : 
won't you be one ? If you could see Him now, this 
minute, waiting for you, you wouldn't like to keep Him 
waiting I am sure ; and you wouldn't and couldn't think 
about anything else till you had heard what He, Jesus, 
your real Saviour, wanted to say to you. Dear child, 
I have asked my own dear Master to give me some 


token of His love on my birthday : shall it be this, that 
He will call you, so call you that you shall come to Him 
and "find rest"? 

Your loving friend. 

Mention should be made of the kindness of 
many Leamington friends constantly shown to 
both our dear mother and Frances. But it is 
impossible even to give outline of any such, or 
the names of most valued friends, whose ceaseless 
ministry threw flowers of sympathy on paths of 
weariness and suffering. 



" The Turned Lesson " Patient worlc Sympathy with 
E. C, going to India Upton Bishop Vicarage The 
brother's organ and last singing The last visit to Switzer- 
land " Settlement pour ToV Bible reading to peasants 

The Great St. Bernard Champery Baroness Helga 
von Cramm Alpine cards Illness at Pension Wengen 

Return home " My King" Pruning. 

" WAS it not kinder the task to turn, 

Than to let it pass, 
As a lost, lost leaf that she did not learn ? 

Is it not often so, 

That we only learn in part, 
And the Master's testing-time may show 

That it was not quite " by heart ;; ? 
Then He gives, in His wise and patient grace, 

That lesson again 
With the mark still set in the self-same place." * 

THERE were many "turned lessons" in my 
dear sister's life to which no clue can be 
given in these Memorials ; but we may here refer 
to one testing-time. Very patiently had she pre- 
pared for press many sheets of manuscript music 

*The Turned Lesson, in " Under His Shadow," page 113. 


in connection with the Appendix to " Songs of 
Grace and Glory." Well do I remember the day 
it was completed. We were at home, and she 
came down from her study with a large roll for 
post, and with holiday glee exclaimed, " There it 
is all done ! and now I am free to write a book ! " 
Only a week passed, when the post brought her 
the news : " Messrs. Henderson's premises were 
burned down this morning about four o'clock. 
We fear the whole of the stereotypes of your 
musical edition are destroyed, as they were busy 
printing it. It will be many days before the 
debris will be sufficiently cooled to ascertain how 
the stereotype plates stand." 

Further news confirmed the loss : " Your musical 
edition, together with the paper sent for printing it, 
has been totally destroyed." On the same sheet 
Frances wrote to her sisters in Worcestershire : 

The signification hereof to me is that, instead of 
having finished my whole work, I have to begin agaio 
de novo, and I shall probably have at least six months 
of it. The greater part of the manuscript of my Appen- 
dix is simply gone, for I had kept no copy whatever, and 
have not even a list of the tunes ! Every chord of my 
own will have to be reproduced j every chord of any 
one else re-examined and revised. All through my 
previous "Songs of Grace and Glory" work, and my own 
books, I had always taken the trouble to copy off every 


correction on to a duplicate proof; but, finding I never 
gained any practical benefit, I did not (as I considered) 
waste time in this case ! Of most of the new work, which 
has cost me the winter's labour, I have not even a memor- 
andum left, having sent everything to the printers. How- 
ever it is so clearly " Himself hath done it,-" that I can 
only say " Thy way not mine, O Lord." I only tell you 
how the case stands, not as complaining of it, only 
because I want you to ask that I may do what seems 
drudgery quite patiently, and that I may have health 
enough for it, and that He may overrule it for good. It 
may be that He has more to teach me, before He sets 

me free to write the two books to which N alludes, 

and which I hoped to have begun directly. Perhaps they 
will be all the better because I cannot now write them 
for next season. Thus I am suddenly shut off from the 
bright stream of successful writing, and stopped in all my 
own plans for this spring, and bid work a few months 
longer in the shade at what is to me special exercise of 
quiet patience. ... I have thanked Him for it more 
than I have prayed about it. It is just what He did with 
me last year, it is another turned lesson. I had mourned 
over not bearing pain in my first illness, and so He gave 
me another opportunity of learning the lesson by sending 
me another painful illness, at Winterdyne, instead of 
giving me up as a hopeless pupil ; and now I have been 
eager to get done with " Songs of Grace and Glory" that 
I might hurry on to begin work of my own choosing and 
planning, and so He is giving me the opportunity over 
again of doing it more patiently, and of making it the 
" willing service " which I don't think it was before. If 
I could not rejoice in letting Him do what He will with 


me, when He thus sends me such very marked and 
individual dealing, I should feel that my desire for 
sanctification, for His will to be done in me, had been 
merely nominal, or fancied and not real. 

(To Miss E. J. Whately.) 

One must be an infidel not to see God's hand upon 
one, most distinctly, in such a matter as this. But it 
was very good of Him to give me the opportunity of 
learning the unlearnt lesson, and of offering, as more 
willing service, what had been ^//willing. I must tell 
you, however, how overwhelmingly gracious He has 
been to me the last few days, quite startling me. I 
thought it had been such a useless spring, that I had 
not been allowed to be any service to any one. Then 
all at once, during three days, a number of notes 
poured in upon me, quite astonishing me with telling 
that I had been made such real use and blessing, in 
some cases quite unconsciously, in others where I 
thought my efforts had produced little or no effect. 
. . . Now, is not this enough to make one's heart 
overflow with praise ? It has been a most sweet lesson 
of trust, and of more simple and absolute dependence 
on Him. 

(ToJ. T. W.) 

PYRMONT VILLA, March 21, 1876. 

Your letter, which I was providentially prevented from 
reading before breakfast, sent me straight away to my 
knees. I have been putting it all into my Saviour's hands, 
pouring out to Him. I don't feel cured, but I believe 


He has taken me into His hands afresh. No, it has 
not been all for Him of late; I don't mean anything 
definite, but breaches in the enclosure, made not by any 
outward foe or even " the religious world," but by self, 
which I wanted to be crushed out of me, that He might 
take its place wholly. I think that has been the " some- 
thing between," and it has dimmed not only the inner 
brightness, but the free-hearted testimony. It is so 
utterly horrid not to have been all for Him. I do feel 
ready to say " sinners, of whom / am chief" and no 
expressions of self bemoaning are too strong for me. He 
has been so much to me, so very, very gracious ; and yet 
I have wandered, without knowing it except by finding 
that He withdrew the brightness of His shining, 
graciously so, because I felt the chill ; and yet, at times, 
off and on, it has even of late been very bright, very 
happy, only it has not been the steady and growing 
brightness. Thank you very much for telling me how 
it is with you ; that helps, because I have to do with the 
"same Jesus." I want Him to prove me to the very 
depths, to " search and try " and cleanse entirely. I am 
glad He did not set me free to write. I distinctly 
believe it to be His holding me back from teaching 
before I am taught ! I am so grateful for your letter, it 
is so good of Him to put it into your heart to watch over 
me. Will you pray for me ? I imagined I had thought 
much of the " keep," as well as of the " take," but I have 
not lived it somehow. I know you must feel disap- 
pointed with me ; I have not " run well ;; as you hoped, 
but don't give me up and throw me overboard alto- 
gether, pray for me, and "watch over me" still for 
the dear Master's sake, for I know He has not thrown 



me overboard, and oh 7 do love Him. Thanks for the 
card ; I thought it was " none of self and all of Thee." 
I have immense temptations. I don't mean that as any 
excuse, only it is so ; temptations to self seeking and self 
complacency, etc. ; and I am made too much of, looked 
up to by plenty who should rather look down on me, 
both here and by strangers ; and I thought I was on my 
guard against it all; and yet I see it has insensibly 
undermined the "enclosure," even though I have been 
having exceptionally great outward privileges. I wonder 
whether one thing has been wrong ! I have been, for 
some time, nearly every day giving half an hour to 
careful reading of Shakespeare ; I felt as if I rather 
wanted a little intellectual bracing, as if something of 
contact with intellect were necessary to prevent my 
getting into a weak and wishy-washy kind of thought and 
language. I like intellects to rub against, and have no 
present access to books which would do it; so I bethought 
myself of seeing what Shakespeare would do for me, and 
I think my motive was really that I might polish my own 
instruments for the Master's use. But there is so much 
that is entirely of the earth earthy, amid all the marvellous 
genius and even the sparkles of the highest truth which 
flash here and there, so much that jars upon one's spirit, 
so much that is downward instead of upward ; that it has 
crossed me whether I am not trusting an arm of flesh in 
seeking intellectual benefit thus. Yet, on the other hand, 
if one admits the principle, one would throw over all means 
as to study and mental culture, and it does really seem as 
a rule as if God endorsed those means, and uses culti- 
vated powers, and only very exceptionally uses the un- 
cultured ones. Yours gratefully. 


(To F. A. S.) 

LEAMINGTON, February 16, 1876. 

I hope you have had a happy week, dear F . 

Only you must not let the temptation come, to fancy that 
He cannot, or will not, be as much to you afterwards as 
He perhaps was to you during the special week for, to 
begin with, " He faileth not," " I change not." He will 
be every day "this same Jesus" > and, to go on with, your 
whole Bible does not contain one word about His giving 
less grace, but always and only " more grace." If He 
gave you blessing last week, it is only an earnest of 
MORE, if you "open your mouth," etc. "Always more 
to follow." Your loving aunt. 

(ToJ. T. IV.) 

THE LEASOWES, April ^ 1876. 

It seems to come natural to send you whatever odds 
and ends come out, so I enclose this last leaflet, "I 
could not do without Him." I very seldom write at the 
suggestion of another, but a London worker said she so 
wanted an appeal to the outsiders based on my hymn " I 
could not do without Thee." So I told her she must 
pray if she wanted it, and I forthwith forgot all about it. 
Three months after, a most strong and sudden sense 
came over me of " what can they, what will they, do 
without Jesus ? " that I must write it ; and it was not 
until afterwards I recollected that this was the very 
thing that had been asked. And, on sending it, I found 
it was just at the right time for her special wish to dis- 
tribute it before one of Mr. Aitken's mission weeks ! It 
will be in Home Words for June, which means going 


straight to 300,000 homes, let alone leaflets and American 
copies. Somehow, I have felt able to ask great blessings 
on this leaflet, though it is such a poor little simple thing, 
without a spark of poetry about it. 

Yours ever gratefully. 

I got just a glimpse of the marvellous indwelling of 
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost last week ; it was so sweet 
and glorious ; I want to realize it always. 

(ToJ.G. Xirc/i/iojfer.) 

April 9. 

You deserve an immense long letter, and I have really 
only time for a few lines, as I am giving up my whole 
available time to work at the new edition of " Songs of 
Grace and Glory." Though your letter-case looks too 
pretty to use, yet I immediately adopted it for unanswered 
letters, putting in yours to begin \yith. Yours must be 
indeed a pretty home. It is not just words, but both 
wish and prayer, that it may be a happy one to you, and 
that you may make many around you happy and happier. 
Of course I mean this in the very fullest and deepest 
sense. Ever since I knew you, I have specially wished 
and prayed that you might entirely live for Jesus, and 
shine very brightly for Him. And you have immense 

Why not work out your " plan of education " as a 
little ballad? I think it would be a capital subject, and 
might be really useful. Send it to the Editor of The 
Children's Friend. (S. W. Partridge & Co.) 

As to imperfect scanning, I must try to answer seriously, 
for it is rather important to you. Never leave imperfect 


scanning, to save the trouble of making it perfect, never I 
Discipline yourself for the next few years most sternly in 
this, and you will be thankful, later on, for the habit and 
facility which it will give you. But irregular scanning 
may be used with great artistic effect, where you pur- 
posely wish to suggest abrupt, broken, startling, rugged, 
spasmodic, etc., effects. A good critic will easily detect 
the difference between the devices of an artist and the 
negligence or clumsiness of a tyro in this matter. 

I have an idea that metre answers to key in music, 
and that one may introduce modulation of metre exactly 
as one introduces modulation of key, and with similar 
mental effect. I have tried it in several recent longish 
poems, using different metres for different parts, and 
modulating from one into the other instead of passing 
directly. You will see what I mean in "The Sowers," 
where, instead of jumping direct into the rather jubilant 
metre of the last part, I work up to it through " One by 
one no longer," etc. 

I must not scribble more Yours lovingly. 

(To the same.) 


How I do wish I had known ! It. would have been the 
most exquisite pleasure to have come to sing to you. 
I know that longing for music so well, though I do not 
think many know what it is. Sometimes I have thought 
that this very "music-thirst" is part of God's gentle 
discipline, leaving us with that thirst instilled, just that 
we may turn afresh to that which stills all longings, the 


music of His name. I have had plenty of verses headed 
"F. R. H.," but I am telling you the truth when I say that 
1 never had any which touched me more, or gave me 
such a thrill of loving fellow-feeling towards the writer. 
Thank you very much for sending them to me. 

Now I have a request. Will you give me a copy of 
your extremely good verses on the recovery of the 
Prince of Wales. . . . 

(To the same.) 

Many thanks, not only for the enclosure, but for your 
most amusing note. 

N.B. It is only fair to tell you that you and Ellen 
Lakshmi Goreh are the solitary ones, out of any number 
of dozen possible geniuses, whose " efforts " I have seen 
or had to do with, in whom I do believe. I have come 
across no others who, I honestly believe, may have a 
" future " in the literary part of the vineyard. This may 
show you I am not quite indiscriminate ! and perhaps 
add weight to the encouragement which I want to give 
you, and the seriousness of the hope and aim before you. 

My sister's expectations were correct ; but Miss 
Kirchhoffer's early death left, as it were, only a 
prelude to what might have been a life of song.* 
(See Appendix, page 354.) 

The following shows how faithfully she pointed 
out the inconsistency of some conversation. 

* " Poems and Essays." By Julia G. M. Kirclihofier. Paisley : 
T . and R. Parlane. 


Tuesday, 7 a.m. 

As I have already had one bad night, and several 
troubled wakings, all about you, I had better get it off my 
mind. I write to you as one who is really wanting to 
follow Jesus altogether, really wanting to live and speak 
EXACTLY according to His commands and His beautiful 
example ; and when this is the standard, what seems a 
little thing, or nothing at all, to others, is seen to be sin, 
because it is disobeying His dear word and not " follow- 
ing fully" " Whatsoever ye would that men should do 
unto you, do ye even so to them." 

Now, darling, be true to yourself, and to Him, as to 
these His own words. Would you like any one to retail, 
and dwell upon, little incidents which made you appear 
weak, tiresome, capricious, foolish? Yet, dear, everything 
which we say of another which we would not like them 
to say of us, (unless said with some right and pure object 
which Jesus Himself would approve,) is transgression 
of this distinct command of our dear Lord's, and there- 
fore sin, sin which needs nothing less than His blood to 
cleanse, sin in which we indulge at our peril and to the 
certain detriment of our spiritual life. And Jesus hears 
every word, and sees, to the depth, the want of real con- 
formity to His own loving spirit, from which they spring. 
Do not think I am condemning you without seeing my 
own failures. It is just because it is a special battle-field 
of my own that I am the more pained and quick to feel 
it, when others, who love Jesus, yield to the temptation or 
do not see it to be temptation. I know the temptation it 
is to allow oneself to say things which one would not say 
if the person were present, yes, and if Jesus were visibly 


present. And I have seen and felt how even a moment- 
ary indulgence in the mildest forms of " speaking evil," 
which is so absolutely forbidden, injures one's own soul, 
and totally prevents clear, unclouded communion with 
Jesus. So I want you to recognise and shun and reso- 
lutely and totally " put away " this thing. 

I should not write all this but that I long for your eyes 
to be opened to the principle, for others' sakes, for your 
own soul's sake, and for Christ's sake. I want you to 
pray over it, to search bravely to the bottom, and to put 
it all into the hands of Jesus, that He may not only for 
give but cleanse, and so fill you with His love that it 
(and nothing else) may overflow into all your words, 
that He may " make you to increase and abound in love 
; . . .to the end He may establish your heart 
unblameable in holiness' 1 Oh, if you knew how I pray 
for this for myself, you would not wonder at my anxiety 
about it for you and for others ! So don't be vexed with, 

Yours ever lovingly. 

(ToE. C.) 


. . . This seems a great and solemn step. I could 
never lift up my finger against what looks so like a 
call from God, though you would seem a long way off 
from us, and would be much mourned and missed from 
your Bewdley work. You know how I have always 
desired, with you, to lay out one's life at the best interest 
for God ; and, of course, if you can do ten per cent, of 
work at Rome, and only five per cent, among the Severn 
fogs, that is to my mind a strong argument. ... I 
send you " I will direct their work in truth," and He will 
direct. Have you thought of work in Syria ? 


(To the same) 

Although dear Miss Nott told me she thought you were 
thinking of Zenana work in India, I did not expect this ! 
Whether Rome or India, I quite think you are one of 
those so situated that you are " free to serve," and that 
the question may be wholly between you and God. . . . 
I am specially glad it is that Society ; it is decidedly my 
favourite, and I have been interested in it for fifteen 
years. Dear Elizabeth, I feel so solemnly glad about all 
this ; I myself seem, more and more, a " cumberer," so 
I am the more glad when others are able for more 
service than 

Yours lovingly. 

(To the same.) 

; ." It often strikes me as one of the wonderful 
wheels of God's providence that He lays different parts 
of His work on different hearts, brings one nearer to the 
focus of one worker's vision and another to another, and 
thus all the different things get taken up. . . . I had 
only thought of the disappointment it would be, if you 
were prevented going to India ! I suppose, partly, be- 
cause I do not feel separation so keenly as you would, 
and partly because all my life it has been a sort of 
"castle in the air " to be a missionary, only that the door 
for me seemed always closed by the state of my health ; 
and, even with my many ties, it would be nothing like 
the sacrifice to me that it will be to you. I shall long to 
hear that the Lord has made the way quite clear, and set 
before you an open door. 


June 1876. During a visit to her brother Frank, 
at Upton Bishop Vicarage, she was much interested 
in his schools and cottages. Every day she went 
about from house to house, reading the Bible and 
telling in simple words of God's love in sending 
Jesus Christ to save sinners. 

In one instance, at a garden party, my sister's 
happy face attracted a young stranger, so that she 
sought conversation with her. Often have I been 
told : " F. R. H. looks so really happy, she must 
have something we have not." (With the utmost 
skill, no artist or photograph gives a real idea of 
her lighted up expression. Is it because soul 
cannot be represented any more than a sunbeam ?) 
And my pen fails, too, in giving an idea to 
strangers of her sunny ways, merrily playing with 
children, and heartily enjoying all things. But 
her deep sympathy with others' joys and sorrows, 
and her loyal longings that all should know the 
"joy unspeakable and full of glory," were the 
secret of her influence with others. 

I may mention that her singing from Handel's 
" Messiah," accompanying herself on her brother's 
organ, after service on her last Sunday evening at 
Upton Bishop, will long be remembered by all who 
heard. The old parish clerk remarked, " I never 
heard the like of that before." Frances then be- 
came the first contributor to a fund for erecting a 


vestry. (Since her death it has been determined 
that this vestry shall be specially " in memory of 
F. R. H." Her brother has also had her name 
cast in a new treble bell, thus completing the peal 
of six.) 

Her own words seem to describe passing events 
and visits better than others can, and therefore we 
again copy from them. 

(To Margaret W.) 

. . . I came to Newport with the idea of not 
being responsible for any one's soul at all ! I enjoyed 
the first three days in a general sort of way, but no real 
gain to myself. I declined addressing the Y. W. C. A. 
meeting, but was present and was asked to sing. I sang 
my arrangement of Isaiah xii. After a few more words, 

and prayer from Mr. W , I sang for them " When thou 

passest." * After that I had to shake hands with many. 
It was all very nice, but not real work. I felt dissatisfied, 
notwithstanding the affectionate greetings and thanks for 
singing. Saturday I said I should like to go to work, and 

went with Mr. W to the Infirmary. In the women's 

ward I read and prayed and sang, and then spoke to 
each alone. I saw there was sowing and reaping work 
wanted, and many entreated me to come again. When 
I went again God sent much blessing. One, very suffer- 
ing, and who had a most distressed expression the day 
before, had found peace soon after I left her. She lay 

* " When thou Passest through the Waters." Music by F. R. II. 
London : Hutchings and Romer. 


looking so happy, saying, " I Ve left it all with Him now, 
and oh it's so beautiful ! " Another, a moping groping 
Christian, told me that the words God helped me to say 
to her lifted her straight up into the sunlight. Before I 
left the ward, I do think another was enabled by God's 
Spirit to trust in the Lord Jesus. From that time, it 
pleased God to send such continuous blessing. But (I 
hardly know how it began, I think from my own couplet 
" . . . let me sing, Always, only, for my King," in 
connection with that Thursday evening) somehow I 
felt that on both sides, singer and listeners, it was 
not really " only for Him," but too much of F. R. H. 
That word "only 1 ' seemed to be pressed on my own 
heart. I saw it as I never saw it before, and that the 
" all for Jesus " must be supplemented and sealed with 
" only for Jesus." It was a great and humbling revela- 
tion to me of failure in full consecration, where I really 
did not see it before; and of course I dare not and 
would not hold back from accepting and following, at 
any cost, what I felt God's Holy Spirit was teaching me. 
I felt I could not, and would not, sing again the next 
Thursday as before, and that I must pass on this 
"only" to the Y. W. C. A. Then I had copies printed 
of the Consecration Hymn, and had my name left out, 
and a blank line instead for the signature, which each 
might fill up alone and prayerfully. 

At the meeting, Mr. W opened it and then went 

away. Then I told them I had meant to sing them 
beautiful songs of Handel, but I could not and dare not ; 
that I could not, after what my King had shown me last 
week, sing even partly to please them, it must be "only 
for my King." Then I told them about this " only/' not 


merely totality of surrender but exclusiveness of allegiance, 
and how I wanted every one there to take this step with 
me that night, and to accept with me " ONLY for Jesus," 
as our life motto, henceforth. To keep my word as to 
singing, I just sang " Precious Saviour, may I live only 
for Thee " * (to " Onesimus "). After prayer, I resumed 
the subject and then distributed the Consecration Hymns 
(very systematically done in one minute without dis- 
turbance) ; and, after running through it, asked those 
and those only to sign their names who meant it. Oh, 
M , it was such singing, one felt it was so real ! 

Then I gave an interval of silent prayer which I felt 
was a time of real consecration. I was sure of His 
presence, so sure that He was bowing the hearts before 
Him by the Holy Spirit's power. Was it not strange 
that the first " consecration meeting " I ever came in for 
should have been in my own hands ? 

After, I gave each at the door " Enough." I hardly 
liked giving my own leaflets, but I really couldn't think 
of anything else just suitable for what I wanted. One, 
whom I had spoken to after church on Sunday evening, 
stayed to tell me how bright her hope continued ; but 
she needn't have spoken, the change of expression was 

quite enough to tell. Well, dear M , I felt there had 

been real blessing. 

As days went on, Mr. and Mrs. W saw numbers 

of those who were there, and who testified that they 
had really been helped and had gained a step onward 
by God's grace. 

Then, I could tell you much of some dear boys who 

* Hymn 695 in " Songs of Grace and Glory." 


had never unfurled their banners, or done any work for 
their King (I always thought I had no notion how to go 
to work with boys, and this has often hindered me from 
trying ; that idea is overboard now). With these young 
soldiers it was a sort of leap into " life more abundantly," 
a going just headlong into life and love and work for 
Jesus. After a week of prayer, one has decided to give 
his whole life, instead of the chips and shavings of it, 
and become a medical missionary. Now they are pray- 
ing for others ; they have pitched upon the worst boy in 
the school, and asked me to join in special prayer for 
him. The most remarkable feature is the way they took 
to their Bibles, and, though holiday time, spent four 
or five hours a day with intensest enjoyment over them. 
. . . I never thought of asking a tenth part of all the 
blessing I received there since then. I shall have to 
lump my requests for praise at your next Y. W. C. A. 

I must pass on to you what I have been rejoicing in 
all this week, Exodus xxi. 5, " I love my Master, I will 
not go out free ;; ; and then connect the end of verse 6 
with Revelation xxii. 3, " shall serve Him " for ever. I 
can't imagine why I never exulted in that declaration 
before, "I love my Master ! " 

A few weeks after, Frances wrote the hymn " I 
love, I love my Master"; and, coincidently, her 
sister Ellen (Mrs. Shaw) also wrote a very similar 
one (published by Caswcll), 

Then came a visit to Ashley Moor, always so 
refreshing to herself; and, while enjoying breezy 


rides and drives and delightful friendships, she 
did not forget work for her King. She has 
left a sunbeam track in many cottages in that 

Year after year, my dear sister had pressed me 
to take a long rest in Switzerland ; and so, on 
July 6th, 1876, we left England, via Dieppe, for 
Lausanne. That delightful journey ! her sisterly 
care and 'unselfishness in revisiting well known 
places just to give me the pleasure ! It was with 
difficulty I persuaded her to go to any new scenes 
for herself. From Montreux she went up to 
"Les Avants" to visit her " delightful friend," 
Miss E. J. Whately. From Vernayaz we went to a 
quiet pension at Fins Haut, en route to Argentiere. 
Sunday came, and the sight of crowds of peasants 
passing by our door to early mass suggested the 
desire to try a Bible address for them in the after- 
noon. Valerie, the daughter of our host, had been 
so fascinated by my sister's singing that, with the 
promise that Mdlle. would sing to the meeting, 
she threw herself heartily into the arrangement. 
Three o'clock was the time fixed, but an hour 
before several maidens assembled, so we set them 
to copy out a French hymn Frances had just 
written, thereby fixing its truths on their memory ; 
and they then practised it as a choir. Frances 
shall tell the rest. 


(Tof. T. W.) 

About thirty or forty came ; some remained in a room 
behind our folding doors, these came from curiosity and 
would not come inside, and there was laughing and talk- 
ing, evidently led by the priest's servant who was there 
for no good ! First I sang to them, and then got the 
girls to join in the hymn they had copied out. Then I 
read some passages from Romans, and Maria spoke 
to them beautifully (in French) on Romans vi. 23, and 
afterwards prayed. 

A few went away as soon as I began to read, 
there was evidently some opposition. Even those 
who seemed really to wish to hear were evidently 
hindered by the total novelty of the whole thing : an 
intensified form of the hindrance which I told you I 

felt existed when I first sang at N . You will 

wonder what I sang ! Well, I had been singing 
snatches of hymns to myself, and especially " Only for 
Thee," and found this gave immense gratification in our 
little pension ; so I thought God could as well give me 
French as English, if He would, and I set to and wrote 
"Settlement pour Tot /" (as they had liked the tune so 
much.) Only it is quite a different hymn, making pro- 
minent the other side, He and He ONLY is and does all 
for us. We come to the Father "only by Thee," place 
our trust " only in Thee " ; retaining merely a few lines 
of the " only for Thee," 2$ it is useless to teach " only 
for Thee " till one has seen " only by Thee." I also 
wrote a free imitation of "Will ye not come ?" and part 
of another. I could write quite easily in French verse ! 


so it may be I shall have to do some more in this 
direction, a totally new opening ! 

Maria had had the priest himself strongly on her mind 
all the week ; and, not having the smallest fear of man, 
actually went and called on him ! with the excuse of 
borrowing a French Bible, and asking him to see if my 
verses were correct. Just imagine going to " M. le Cure " 
for a Bible, and for revision of Protestant hymns ! He 
was very courteous, and Maria relieved her mind en- 
tirely ; told him how happy she was in Christ, and what 
was the secret of peace and joy. He did not attempt 
controversy, and seemed interested, but only assented to 
all she said, so that she could not get him to open out. 

As for taking readings myself, the prospect seems to 
recede. Even taking part in this little meeting seemed to 
throw me back. For years, I have always suffered from 
any work of the kind, and then been made unable for my 
own more special work, as I never produce a line when 
overdone. And I find more distinctly, here, that I have 
not anything like my former strength, and even three 
weeks (by which time other years I have got into tip-top 
training) have not brought me up to where I used to 
start from. All the old elasticity and physical strength 
are gone. I don't feel the "atmospheric salvolatile," 
and go out on the freshest of Swiss mornings feeling up 
to nothing instead of equal to anything \ Yet it is thirteen 
months since I was really cured from my illness. 

Leaving the Chamounix valley for the Great 
St. Bernard Hospice, we took diligence from 
Orsiere. The passengers sang some French songs 
remarkably well. We listened and commended, 



and then asked if they would join us in a new tune, 
" Seulement pour Toi" Finding the driver took 
up the chorus in bass, Frances went outside that 
he might see the words, and most heartily was it 
sung by all. Sunday we rested at the hospice. 
The weather was fine, and the crowds of peasants 
who partook of that wonderful hospitality were 
sitting on the rocks in all directions, and of 
course many a seed was cast among them. My 
sister's brilliant touch on the piano in the saloon 
attracted the good fathers, and they requested that, 
after dinner, she would sing for the assembled 
strangers. She asked me to pray that she might 
give the King's message in song, and that it 
might reach some hearts. As there were different 
nationalities present, she very simply but grace- 
fully said she was going to sing from the Holy 
Scriptures, repeating the words in German and 
Italian, and then sang Handel's " Comfort ye," 
" He shall feed His flock," and afterwards " Rest 
in the Lord." An Italian professor of music with 
many others thanked her, and were expressing 
their admiration to me when Frances bade them 
" Good night," saying to me, " You see, Marie, I 
gave my message, and so it is better to come 
away." Returning from the hospice we diverged 
to Lac de Champe, thence to Martigny and 
Champery. There we met her Leamington 


friends, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers (of St. Paul's); 
Mr. Rogers was, then, summer chaplain at 

I could testify of much happy work here, in 
leading others to rejoice in God her Saviour : 
strangers, invalids, tourists, to all she was a 
shining light. And she was never satisfied with 
any one's profession, without a corresponding life 
for Christ and work for Christ. I may give the 
testimony of one, as representing that of many 

I feel sure that God led us to Champery that we 
might meet your dear sister Frances. Oh, I cannot tell 
what a blessing she was to me there. I always looked 
for those fair curls ; and the saloon seemed desolate if I 
could not hear her voice and often merry laugh. She 
was so happy and whole-hearted, and she spoke to me of 
the Lord Jesus, and the joy of being altogether and only 
His. Yes, it was on the balcony at Champery that a 
new life and love seemed lighted up in my soul. Even 
as she was speaking to me I felt that, with God's grace, 
I must take the same step she had, and henceforth live 
" only for Jesus." That was indeed turning over a per- 
fectly new and bright page in my life. 

Another Champery friendship was with the 
Baroness Helga von Cramm. We were staying 
in the same pension ; and a few words the first 
time we met her resulted in many pleasant en- 


twinings of work. I give my sister's reference to 
the fact, in a letter to Mr. W . 

One of my Champery gains was the Baroness Helga 
v. Cramm ; such an artiste, every picture is a poem, such 
a soul in all she paints ; her two specialities are Alpine 
scenery with the weirdest effects of snow and clouds, and 
the marvellous beauty of the tiny Alpine flowers. Well 
now, of course, she wants to paint for Jesus somehow ! 
So I suggested that we might do something together, 
and we would first ask Him to give me half-a-dozen nice 
little Easter verses (new ground to me !), and then that 
He would hold her hand, and make her do some ex- 
quisite flowers. So the verses all came tumbling in that 
evening ! 

Such was the origin of the varied series of 
lovely " Alpine cards," subsequently published by 

Leaving Champery, we went to the Bernese 
Oberland. Our longest sojourn was in the Pen- 
sion Wengen, above Lauterbrunnen, just opposite 
Miirren, with the full range of the Jungfrau and 
Silberhorn in view. Getting wet through in a 
thunderstorm was followed by a chill, and my 
dear sister was seriously ill for a month. The 
Lauerners were most kind, and we were happy 
in having the pension to ourselves and being 
favoured with brilliant weather. 

Two or three pages from my notebook recall 


our often pleasant talks, and the two following 
letters are about the same date. 

September 3oth, a.m. I found Frances with her Bible 
after a wakeful night : " O Marie, I've just had such a 
find ! I hope you've not stumbled on it." You remem- 
ber I was speaking of that delightful verse in 2 Chronicles 
xxxii. 8, * the people rested themselves upon the words of 
the King ' ; now I have found ' the word of my Lord the 
King shall now be for rest ' (margin 2 Samuel xiv. 17) : 
is it not lovely ? it will do for one of my night pillows ; 
it's a down pillow, and no rucks in it ! Of course it's a 
woman who said it ; all the women in Scripture do say 
excessively pretty things." 

Then she went on telling me that she thought her 
next volume of poetry would be her " Nunc Dimittis " 
(see Preface to " Under His Shadow"). On October 8 
she had many weary hours of pain. She was so patient 
in all her suffering, and very thankful for some remedies 
a lady kindly brought us from Interlaken. One after- 
noon, after trying a new remedy, I begged her to shut 
her eyes and try to sleep. When I returned she gave 
me the lines, "I take this pain, Lord Jesus." "You 
see, Marie, I know something of the sweetness of taking 
pain direct from His hand. I had just been saying all 
this to the Lord, and then it came to me in this hymn j 
it wants no correction ; I always think God gives me 
verse when it comes so, and it is worth any suffering if 
what I write will comfort some one at some time ! " 
The next day she told me : " While I was in such pain, 
the very lines I 've been waiting for came to me. Three 
years ago I began some on the Queen of Sheba, and 


brought the unfinished sheet here. Very often, strangers 
write and tell me that my lines comfort or help them, 
even when I know there is not a spark of poetry in 
them. Now / cannot tell what will comfort others, so 
I ask God to let me write what will do so." 

Another day she told me she hoped to write a paper 
on " Men see not the bright light that is in the clouds." 

" Dear Anne M suggested it to me long ago. 

Many bright young Christians have never been down 
in the depths of the waves (as I have), and they wait 
for some great cloud to come, instead of seeing His 
light in the little, daily, home clouds ! Marie dear, some 
may think it is presumptuous, my writing 

' For Thee my heart has never 
A trustless Nay ! ' 

But it really is so, I could not look up in His face and 
say, 'Nay, my Lord, I do not trust Thee in every- 

(ToMissE.J. Whately.) 

PENSION WENGEN, October 1876. 
... I am just waiting for strength to go home ; I 
have been ill again, and am only arrived at the stage of 
a few minutes' walk, on my sister's arm. I was splen- 
didly better till the end of August, and meant to have 
settled down to a delicious month or so of leisurely writing 
out here, and then gone home to dear mamma, and 
begun almost a new era of life. However, God has 
chosen otherwise for me ; I am just where I was this time 
last year, and any book writing is indefinitely postponed. 
. . . How glad I am that our work is not measured 


by quantity, and that its results depend neither on 
quantity nor quality, but only on the sovereignty of His 
blessing. ... It was just a bit tantalizing to see 
you and yet to see so little of you, there were so many 
things I wanted to talk to you about. . . 

One never does have anything but sips and glimpses 
here ! No fear of satiety anyhow ; we don't have a 
chance of that misfortune ! Yet the sips and glimpses 
are so pleasant and so varied that, perhaps, each has 
just that proportion which makes our lives the most 
really enjoyable. Over and above the intense delight of 
the coming perfect and leisurely intercourse above, I 
think we shall almost revel in perfect power of expres- 
sion. Do we ever feel that we have, either by word or 
pen, expressed our whole thought, still less our whole 
fedingt And is there not a peculiar pleasure in finding 
oneself able to make even the partial expression of it a 
little more complete than usual ? Why is it that such 
pleasure seems attached to our rinding power of pro- 
portionate expression (of any kind) of what is surging 
within ? Is it a hint of the wonderful delight it will be 
to have the totally new power of clothing, unerringly and 
invariably, the infinitely expanded thoughts and intensi- 
fied feelings in absolutely perfect expression, perfect 
vehicle of word and song ? And, then, this delight will 
be met and completed by perfect understanding and 
reciprocation. There must be this last, because the 
One Spirit will dwell so fully and so equally in both 
speaker and hearer. . . . 

Talking of sips, what unexpected delicious little sips 
one gets, sometimes, when one is really too tired for a 
whole draught from His word ! Yesterday I was so 


tired, just on the edge of fainting more than once from 
mere weakness. I turned over the leaves for a sip, and 
came upon " the word of my Lord the King shall now 
be for rest " (margin). I need not tell you how it rested 
me ! I am extremely fond of the typical scraps in the 
history of David, but I never saw this one before. . . . 

(71? Mrs. R) 

\ must send you the last texts I have been dwelling 
on ; the force, beauty, and sweetness of the combina- 
tion of the King and yet the Father, the kingdom and 
yet the home, have struck me so much. And it is, in 
almost every case, first the Father and home, then the 
kingdom (Matt. xiii. 43 ; Luke xii. 32). And this royal 
home of this kingly Father is yours and mine ! I suppose 
you and I are fully half way to it, and the view is clearer 
and nearer, and will be clearer and nearer yet ! 

As soon as strength was given we returned to 
England, in October. 

I well remember when Frances first thought of 
writing " My King." We were returning from 
Switzerland. Her illness there had quite hindered 
any writing, and she seemed to regret having no 
book ready for Christmas. It was October 2ist, we 
had passed Oxford station, on our way to Winter- 
dyne, and I thought she was dozing, when she 
exclaimed, with that herald flash in her eye, 
"Marie! I see it all, I can write a little book, 
' My King, " and rapidly went through divisions 

MY KING." 217 

for thirty-one chapters. The setting sun shone 
on her face ; and, even then, it seemed to me she 
could not be far distant from the land of the 
King. Illness came on again, accompanied by 
severe suffering, yet the book was quickly written 
and published. We may regard the pages in " My 
King" as the fruit of her patiently taking back 
"the turned lesson," which prevented her writing 
for so many months. The following letters of this 
period speak for themselves. 

(To .) 


I send you a prayer which I heard yesterday, and 
which has been arising from my heart ever since. " Lord, 
take my lips and speak through them, take my mind and 
think through it, take my heart and set it on fire ! " Quite 
possible for Him to do, though it seems so much to ask. 
I am asking it ; you ask it too. Christ's words, Christ's 
thoughts, Christ's love, not our own any more ! How 
He does love you, how His very chastening proves it ! 
He has not let you alone, and " blessed is the man whom 
Thou chastenest." So, the very sense of the reality of 
chastening proves the reality that you are " blessed/' and 
" I wot that he whom Thou blessest is blessed." 
Only think that you are to " come forth as gold" I 
wonder what He will do with His gold when He does 
bring it forth ! We shall see. He never would thus 
deal with you, if He had not some very special ends to 
reach. Trust on ; He is worthy of all trust, isn't He ? 

2i 8 MEMORIALS OF F. A". H. 


I was rejoicingly thankful that you have tasted the 
delight of real spiritual work for Jesus. Perhaps He is 
training you, by all this stopping of your own wishes and 
aims, for something much better, for very much and very 
happy work for Himself. I have no doubt about it ; it 
seemed such very marked individual dealing with you, 
that, as He also so graciously made you willing to let 
Him teach you in His own way, I had not a shadow of 
a doubt that He meant it to work out real and great 
blessings to you. Every other aim has to be thwarted 
and crossed ; our soul's health needs it. Even if seem- 
ingly right and reasonable, He will not LET one whom 
He really takes in hand, to make " a vessel unto honour 
and meet for the Master's use," rest in any aim short of 
Himself and His glory. He knows that our real happi- 
ness lies here, and He loves us so much that He sees to 
it that we shall not go on "feeding on ashes," if we are 
feeding on them instead of on Himself. . . . You 
know He must be right, and most certainly has some- 
thing better to give instead of whatever He takes away. 
But I am so glad you see it, and can trust Him. It 
would be too bad not to trust Him, wouldn't it? He will 
not, cannot change, even if your trust should be weak 
and flickering (2 Tim. ii. 13 ; Jas, i. 3, 4). 

(To J. T. JF.) 

November 1876. 

This has been a slight edition of my previous illness, 
but it will be some weeks before I am really as strong as 
usual. That long illness in 1874 has so weakened me, 
besides seemirg to have left a curious liability to fever, 


which has returned so many times. But I am not 
troubled about the " fallow," and your words, " The Lord 
is right, you can trust Him I know," have not done 
chiming yet ! Just before this last attack I was in my 
sister's conservatory watching the gardener cut off every 
bunch he could find upon a splendid vine. He has 
been training it for twelve years, never let it bear even 
one bunch of fruit for two years, and now it is 200 
feet long in the main stem alone, and 400 feet with 
the principal branches. He has pruned off a thousand 
bunches this spring. "And what do you expect it to 
bear, by and by?" "Four hundredweight of grapes! 
and, please God I live to manage it, it will be the finest 
vine in the county." He was having long patience for 
fourteen years with this choice vine, and I suppose my 
Husbandman's waiting with me won't be as many 
months, so that is not a very long trial of trust. " My 
faithful Saviour ! " That seemed my one thought while 
awake last night. I was delighted 'one day on noticing 
the Greek of Jude 24, dTrrato-rovs "without stumbling," 
let alone without falling ! . . . 

No, I am not " basking in the sunshine " ; it is not 
bright and vivid. I seem too tired, somehow, for bright- 
ness ; but it is not dark either. I know He is faithful, 
and I am learning and resting. I think I miss outward 
helps and privileges, and having no direct work for Christ ; 
I know this is all right too, so I am not fidgeting about it. 
I was able before this attack to go twice to church, a 
short afternoon service ; but the preacher's chief lesson, 
from Luke xxiv., was that Jesus couldn't be always with 
us, and that we must expect Him to speedily vanish out of 
our sight whenever we did get one of the rare glimpses 


TT"JvT T T ?- -r-i , 


of His presence ! So it wasn't very enlivening, but I was 
glad indeed that I knew better ! Oh, I am so glad that 
"alway" (Matt, xxviii. 20) means always, and that 
" never " (Heb. xiii. 5) means not ever and not " only 
sometimes," which is really about as much as I used 
practically to take the words for ! But the " alway " 
and the " never " are always now for us, and I believe 
them now just as they stand. And so, whether the day 
is dull or bright, and whether my eyes are heavy or clear, 
I know Jesus is with me. What a difference it does 
make, doesn't it ? . . . I think " The Thoughts of 
God," printed in The Sunday Magazine, is the very best 
poem I ever wrote ; but I have not heard one word about 
its doing anybody any real good. It's generally some- 
thing that I don't think worth copying out or getting 
printed (like "I did this for thee," and "Take my life"), 
that God sees fit to use. 

Do you remember my telling you my difficulty about 
saving any of my literary earnings for a rainy day ? Well, 
after a deal of puzzle and prayer, I gave it all up to the 
Lord in Switzerland (1874), and intended to give all I 
ever earned straight away to Him. While in London I 
had an unexpected cheque from Hutchings and Romer, 
and was arranging how to give it, when down came this 
fever upon me, and mere doctors and nurses made a 
clean sweep of this cheque and all my available resources. 
Was this an indication the other way ? and should I be 
acting rightly towards my relatives, if, when next I re- 
ceive a cheque, I should give all away without making 
some provision for future illness ? Of course some one 
must pay doctors, and if I had nothing in hand it would 
fall on them. So it seems robbing Peter to pay Paul ! 


And yet He knows I would LIKE to give all into His 
treasury, direct and at once. 

You spoke in a former letter of rejoicing over good news 
of your converts. I have been thinking over verse 4 of 
St. John's Third Epistle, and it seems to me that we too 
have " no greater joy." One is very glad when souls come 
to Christ, but I do think it is a "greater " joy when the 
work has been tested, and one finds them growing and 
working and shining for Jesus. On the other hand, it 
does so pain and depress me when I see that those who 
do profess to be His, often Christians of long standing, 
are cool and lukewarm, and taking little or no interest in 
His cause. Is it wrong that what I feel on such matters 
often amounts to real suffering, and brings more tears 
than I ever shed for any personal trouble ? Yours ever 
in Him. 

(To the same) 

November 1876. 

Isn't it odd I should be hors de combat just now? 
And yet it is stranger still not to feel even the least 
temptation to say "how excessively provoking!" as I 
should have been saying three years ago ; so everything 
only proves how real the peace of God is. I have not a 
fear or a flutter, not a care or anxiety, for time or eternity; 
and I know this is not nature, for the natural thing 
to me would be to fidget as to both present and pro- 
spective health, neither being very cheering ! But the 
Lord is right, as you wrote me; only, I have not the vivid 
joy of December 1873, and I am very much inclined to 
say " Where is the blessedness I knew ? " But then I 
have deeper experience in several respects, and anyhow 
I have made trial of His love. 

222 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

(To F. A. S.) 

November 17. 

Just a loving line for your birthday, dear F , and 

fondest wishes for every blessing; yes, "all spiritual 
blessings " (see Eph. i. 3). 

I feel so inclined to send you, instead of a proper 
" birthday text," a word which I never noticed till lately, 
and which has struck me very much in connection with 
your saying you had not thought before of " do ye even 
so to them " as an absolute command. It is i Chronicles 
xxviii. 8, " Keep, and seek for, all the commandments," 
etc. (look at it !) You see we are not merely to keep what 
we know of, and what lie on the surface of His law, but 
to " seek for all." And verily this is no hard lines, for 
more and more I see that " in keeping of them there is 
great reward " even in this life. Don't you think this 
would be a good and helpful aim for the year ? I mean, 
God helping me, to take it as such for myself; and as it 
was new to me, it may be so for you too. Don't shrink 
from rinding hitherto unrecognised commands ; He only 
" commands for our good" \ let us shrink rather from 
living in unknown disobedience to any. "Blessed are 
they that do His commandments"; may that blessed 
ness be really yours and mine. 

(ToJ.T. W.) 

I see clearly now about the " satisfaction," />., that 1 
am so satisfied with the Lord Jesus that it is "Yea, 
let any Ziba take all, forasmuch as my Lord the King 
has come to His own house in peace " (" whose house 
are we," Heb. iii. 6). Ziba is entirely welcome to all 
my other property, so that I may but be " with the 


King." If that isn't being satisfied with my King I 
don't exactly see what is ! So 1 have said and sung 
the last verse of my hymn " Enough " again and again. 

" But now Thy perfect love is perfect filling ! 
Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God ; 
Thou, Thou art enough for me ! " 

All the same, I see I can't be satisfied till I get to 
heaven, in the other sense ; I shall always be wanting 
" more and more " of His gifts, and His gracious words 
and manifestations of Himself. I got perfectly clear 
about it in writing " Full Satisfaction " (" My King," page 
30); only, I am anything but satisfied with that same 
chapter, and I am afraid you are expecting a great deal 
too much from my poor little book. But, it is for "my 
King." I am so happy. That's all ! 

(To .) 


The sad, sad news has reached me, and I know a 
little bit of what you are bearing now, for I lost my dear 
mamma when I was about as old as you, and my dear 
papa died, almost suddenly, not so very long ago. And 
Jesus knows : knows exactly all you feel, has watched 
every tear, and listened, oh so lovingly, to every little 
cry. I think you must be in His very special care 
now, and He will give you, and is giving you, even 
more than all the care and love that your dear papa 

could give you. Now this very minute, K dear, 

He does so love you and feel for you ; and I think 
your dear papa knows how much Jesus loves you, better 


than he ever knew before; and so he can be quite, 
quite happy, even though you are left behind. He is in 
Christ's safe keeping, and only think that, this very 
minute, he is seeing the King in His beauty, really 
seeing Jesus ! Can you not be almost glad that he is 
seeing Him now ? And he has really heard Jesus say to 
him, " Well done, good and faithful servant ; thou hast 
been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over 
many things; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord/' 
Think how wonderfully happy it must have made him to 
hear his own dear Master's voice saying that to him ! 

I have two little texts for you, which must come true 
now, because the very time is come : " He shall gather 
the lambs with His arm " (Isa. xl. n); and you perhaps 
think "Yes, I should like Jesus to keep that promise, 
but when will He do it ? " Look at the margin of Psalm 
xxvii. 10, and you will see, " When my father and my 
mother forsake me, then the Lord will gather me." So it 
is now that He will gather you in His arms. But He has 
left you your dear mamma. Will you give her my 
deepest sympathy ! You need not think that you must 
answer this, it was only I felt so sorry for you and your 
dear mamma that I could not help writing. 

Yours very lovingly. 

A few gleanings from letters to her friend Mary 

F embody some miscellaneous thoughts, and 

may fitly close this chapter. 

Psalm Ix. 4 : " Thou hast given a banner to them 
that fear Thee." Then He has given it to you. Don't 
keep it furled. What is its device ? what is its motto ? 


See if you come to the same conclusion I have. And 
may we not take " the Truth " personally ? (John xiv. 6.) 
It must be the breeze of the Spirit which waves its often 
drooping folds. Pray that it may be displayed faithfully 
and bravely by yourself and your friend. 

Jeremiah xxxi. 14 : " My people shall be satisfied with 
My goodness." Do this and similar promises refer to 
this life ? do they not group themselves with " I shall be 
satisfied when I awake with Thy likeness " ? Look at 
John iv. 14 in Greek : "shall never thirst " ; does not 
that rather imply futurity ? Yet I should like to know 
whether any, except such as are already in the land of 
Beulah, can say that. Still, present or future, there it 
stands and cannot pass away, being His word, His own 
word, " My people shall be satisfied." 

" Thy will be done." In applying this to sorrow, 
trial, and disappointment, do we not forget the brighter 
pendants to this tear-dropped jewel? " This is the will 
of God, even your sanctification." " Father, I will that 
they, whom Thou hast given Me, be with Me where I 
am." Also Ephesians i. 5, Galatians i. 4, and many 
other instances. 

"When thou passest through the waters I will be with 
thee." Really and truly with you, even if the rushing of 
the waters seems to deafen and blind you for the moment, 
so that you cannot see or hear Him. 

Hebrews xii. 1 1 : " Afterward it yieldeth," singular 
not plural, and therefore definite and applying to each 
separate trial ; " it yieldeth." So one need only wonder 
what afterward, not wonder whether / 

"Hitherto," "henceforth." The Christian's whole 
course in two words. 



Letters The mystery of pain The Lord's graving tool Loyal 
letters "Won't you decide to-night?" Manhood for 
Christ's service Splendid promises "My silver and my 
gold" Mildmay : its intercessions, greetings, hushing 
power A crumb from the King's table The Christian 
Progress Union. 

OUR only available sources, for a record of 
many months in 1877, are my dear sister's 

(To Elizabeth Clay.) 

. , . Shall we not find that all parts of our lives will 
prove to have been training for whatever is our truest 
work even on earth, and also for the heavenly service to 
which one, more and more, looks forward ? But the bits 
of wayside work are very sweet. Perhaps the odd bits, 
when all is done, will really come to more than the seem- 
ingly greater pieces ! the chance conversations with rich 
or poor, the seed sown in odd five minutes, even the 
tables-d'-hote for me, and the rides and friends' tables 
for you. It is nice to know that the King's servants are 
always really on duty, even while some can only stand 
and wait. Your going to India seems a very special 
" boring of the ear." How curiously your path and mine 
have diverged ; your going to do great things for God, 


and I able for less and less. My hope that, at last this 
winter, I might be allowed one Bible class at home is un- 
certain ; ditto my choir practice, as I am to avoid cold 
and fatigue. Everybody is so sorry for me except myself J 
For the same peace which will be yours in work will be 
mine in waiting ; and the very fact of having a busy and 
active nature, with no proclivity for dolcefar niente, seems 
to make the rest under God's felt restraints so much the 
more really His doing. 

(To the same.) 


Best wishes for your first birthday in India, and i 
Chronicles iv. 23, "there they dwelt with the King for 
His work," ''there " is Amritsur for you. How specially it 
is for His work that you are there ! I send you a lovely 
little book by Miss Elliott ... I feel how very 
precious your time will be in acquiring the language ; 
and, if you spent an hour writing to me, I should feel like 
David did about the water of the well at Bethlehem. I 
have but little physical strength ; perhaps He withholds 
the active service ; and also I see His wisdom in, all 
along, having held me back from any chance of Con- 
ferences, or hearing any speakers of any sort for several 
years past (with the sole exception of the Mildmay Con- 
ference in 1874). For, if I had, I should have learnt from 
man, and should almost necessarily have echoed what I 
heard from others, in what I write. 

(To .) 

I think that, during certain stages of Christian life and 
experience, pain is always a mystery. And so long it is 


a grand trial of trust in God's perfect wisdom and love and 
Tightness. " His work is perfect " : Deut. xxxii. 4. (But 
wait patiently till you have had, first, some years of 
pastoral work, and, second, some personal experience of 
great pain ; and then you will see.) To myself the whole 
thing is clear as sunshine, but tenfold clearer since the 
intense pain through which He has led me of late. I 
would not have foregone that teaching for anything ! 

I. Pain, as to outsiders, is no mystery when looked 
at in the light of God's holiness, and in the light of Cal- 
vary. The deeper our views of and hatred of sin (as the 
Holy Spirit's teaching in our hearts progresses), the more 
clear will all that is connected with sin become; and as. 
had there been no sin there would have been no pain, it 
is all, and more than all, deserved. I can say for myself 
that I feel I have deserved the very suffering of hell for 
my transgression of the first great commandment of the 
law, (" thou shall love the Lord thy God," etc.,) and for 
my sin of unbelief. 

It is, further, a real proof of God's love. He cannot 
(being Love) enjoy the sight of suffering, IT MUST be as 
much worse to Him than to you, as He is infinitely greater 
and more loving than you ! And yet He inflicts or permits 
it, that He may rouse, and warn, and check, and save. 
What thousands have blessed Him for the pain that came 
like a rough hand catching them as they fell over a preci- 
pice, hurting and pinching their very flesh, but saving 
their lives ! In how many ways a skilful doctor gives pain, 
that he may prevent much greater and worse suffering ! 
At the same time, I am quite sure that with very, very 
rare exceptions bodily pain, though far more trying to 
witness, is not anything to compare with mental pain, and 


it leaves no sting or scar, as almost every other form of 
real trial must do. ( I am perhaps in a specially good 
position to judge of this point, because all my doctors 
agree in saying that, from my unusually finely strung 
nerves, I am and always shall be peculiarly sensitive to 
physical pain, and feel it far more keenly than ordinary 

II. Pain, as to God's own children, is, truly and really, 
only blessing in disguise. It is but His chiselling, one 
of His graving tools, producing the likeness to Jesus for 
which we long. I never yet came across a suffering (real) 
Christian who could not thank Him for pain ! Is not 
this a strong and comforting fact ? I do not say that they 
always do so during the very moments of keenest pain, 
though much more often than not I think they are able 
to do this ; but, certainly, they do deliberately praise Him 
for it afterwards. I think one must pass through it for 
oneself before one can fully realize the actual blessedness 
of suffering ; meanwhile, you may well take the testimony 
of those who have. Its conscious effects are to give one 
deeper feeling of one's entire weakness and helplessness, 
(a lesson which we are all slow to learn in health,) and 
of the real nothingness of earthly aims and comforts, and 
the fleetingness and unsatisfactoriness of everything 
except Christ. Then, it drives one to Him each moment, 
one cannot bear it even one minute alone, one must lean 
and cling (and anything is blessed which does this ! ). And 
then, one finds that He is tender and gracious, that His 
promises are precious, that His presence is a REALITY 
even if unrealized ! (a true paradox !) Then, one has op- 
portunities which one could not otherwise have of learn- 
ing trust, and patience, and meekness ; it is a time of 


growing up into Him in these things. Then, one realizes 
more what it must have been to Jesus to endure real, 
actual, bodily pain/?/- us. I never saw such tremendous 
force in i Peter ii. 24 ("in His own body") as when 
suffering great pain myself; it seemed a new page of His 
love unfolded to me. I could write sheets more on the 
blessed teachings of pain, but if I did I should perhaps 
bring it on ! So far, the whole question of pain is rather 
one of sight than of faith to me now ; it has become so 
clear to me, as a part of God's great plan which could not 
be done without. But I find yet scope for faith beyond. 
I believe there is a mysterious connection between suf- 
fering here and actual capabilities of enjoyment hereafter, 
and that suffering here is training (I cannot tell how) for 
that glorious service above, to which I delight to look 
forward. But now look for yourself at what God's word 
says about it, and dwell on that instead of on your own 
thoughts about it, for His thoughts are not as your 
thoughts ; see Isaiah Iv. 8, 9. Look at 2 Corinthians iv. 
17, 18; and then see how much more you can find in 
His word which bears on the subject. . . . 

Trust Jesus in and for everything. When a trial is past, 
one does so bitterly regret not having trusted Him en- 
tirely in it ; and one sees that we might as well have had 
all the joy and rest of perfect trust all along. 

(To -) 

. . , I know that nothing short of the Holy Spirit's 
power can enable any one to accept God's way of salvation 
as a little child. ... I will tell you the two passages 
which have been the greatest help to me, two great anchors 


which have stood many a strain of personal conflict and 
doubt: John v, 24 and i John v. 10, IT. It does not 
matter what we suppose God might propose or declare ; 
it all hangs upon what has God said about it ? And can 
words be plainer than these two passages ? " He that 
believeth hath everlasting life" Only think deliberately 
out that those words must mean everlasting life, for it 
would be a mockery and a lie to call it so if it might last 
only a day or a year. If the life which Jesus imparts (His 
own life by His Spirit) can come to an end to-morrow, 
it is not, cannot be, and never was, everlastitig life at all ! 
Our natural life is even as a vapour, but this would be 
a poorer thing still, if it might be lost even sooner. 
" Everlasting " either means that which shall really last 
for ever, or it is a meaningless delusion and not worth 
the paper it is printed on. " Hath : " it is never said 
shall have, but always the actual present possession by 
every one who believes, not always consciously but 
certainly. If you believe in Jesus as your only and all- 
sufficient Saviour, either you have at this moment ever- 
lasting life, a life which shall and can never perish \ or 
God is a liar. Don't you see the inevitable force of 
" everlasting" ? It must be everything or nothing. How 
can it be everlasting life, if it can be quenched in eternal 
death ? The two passages you mention present no diffi- 
culty at all. Philippians ii. 12, 13 seems to me clearly to 
imply that those to whom St. Paul wrote had got salva- 
tion as an actual possession, ''your own"; and, having 
got it, they are now to " work it out," i.e. to carry out all 
the details and consequences of it, act up to it. Give a 
man a great gold mine ; it is his, he has not got to work 
for it (it is all there, his very own), but only to work it 


out, draw upon it, and enjoy it. I think the figure holds 
good, for enjoyment seems to hold an almost invariable 
proportion to work for Christ. I never knew any idle 
Christian really a rejoicing one (I do not of course 
speak of invalids) ; and, conversely, if you see a man or 
woman, whatever their position, doing all they can for 
the cause of Christ, giving up time to work for Him, and 
trying hard to win others, either rich or poor, for Him, 
you may be almost certain that they are happy in Christ. 
(Mark, I do not say those who merely ride religious or 
benevolent hobbies, or who work for externals of religion, 
these are often as miserable as any ; but those who are 
working for Christ^ Further, just look at the " for " 
inverse 13, and take the two verses together and you will 
see that it is all of God and not of us. As to i Corinthians 
ix. 27, why did you not see that the Greek dSo/a/xos is 
literally and clearly " not approved," being simply the 
negative of So'/a/xos. You cannot read the Greek word 
otherwise; and how it came to be translated "cast- 
away" I can't imagine. I can wish you no greater 
blessing than that salvation maybe no longer a "theory" 
but a glorious reality to you, constraining you henceforth 
to live unto Him entirely and joyfully. If you once get 
hold of this, everything will seem different j the false 
lights of the world will no longer throw their flickering, 
deceiving lights around you, but you will view ana 
estimate all in the true light, the glorious light which 
makes the earthly delusions altogether unattractive, 
and the grand eternal realities appear what they are, 
just realities. But, whatever you do, don't delay ; go 
fully and most earnestly into the question at once ; a 
magnificent treasure is within your reach, don't drift 


away from it. If any other passage, or set of passage?, 
present any difficulty to your mind, I wish you would 
let me know. Just one thing : this matter is not merely the 
intellectual acceptance of a theory, but also the accept- 
ance, by the heart, of God's loving and free offer and plan. 
It is a personal transaction between Christ and the soul, 
to be carried out alone with Him. 

(To a young friend?) 

You will not mind my writing to you ; you needn't 
feel obliged to answer. I hear you go back to school 
on Thursday; are you to go back doubtful, uneasy, 
fearful, dissatisfied, alone ? or, is it to be going back with 
Jesus, safe in Him, happy in Him ? When the Holy 
Spirit stirs up a heart to feel uneasy, it is very solemn, 
because it is His doing; Satan will do his best to say 
" peace, peace, when there is no peace." It is very 
solemn, because it results either in grieving that loving 
Spirit by stifling His secret call, or in passing from death 
unto life : the one or the other, I know of no other alter- 
native. Which shall it be ? Don't linger just outside the 
gate of the city of refuge ; just outside is danger, perhaps 
destruction ; you are not safe for one instant till you are 
inside. And oh, have you ever thought that it is not 
merely negative, not merely not safe, but that unless your 
sins now are on Jesus they are now on you, and God's 
wrath is upon them and so upon you? It is a tremen- 
dous question, " where are your sins ? " I do not stay 
to prove that they are somewhere, you have learnt that ; 
but now where are they ? On you, or on Jesus ? Oh, 
that He may now send His own faithful word about it 


with power to your soul, " the Lord hath laid on Him 
the iniquity of us all ! " Accept that, believe His word, 
venture your soul upon it, and " he that believeth hath 
everlasting life." I won't write more to-day ; all hinges 
on this question, " where are your sins ? " If on you, you 
are not safe one instant, there is but a step between you 
and hell, " the wrath of God abideth on him " ; it is 
awfully true, don't dare to sleep another night with con- 
demnation upon you. But if on Jesus (and He only asks 
you to believe that He has borne them, in His own 
body, on the tree, and that Jehovah hath laid them on 
Him,} then you are free, gloriously free ! They can't be 
on both / If on Jesus, you are saved and have ever- 
lasting life, and you will prove it by " henceforth " t being 
His entirely and living to Him. I desire and pray that 
the great question of your life, of your whole eternity, 
may be decided before you go back. It will be easier 
now than it ever can be again, if He ever gives you 
another call. 

(To the same.) 

. . . Let me say just this ; when one is really and 
utterly " all for Jesus," then and not till then we find 
Jesus is all for us, and all in all to us. Now I want you 
to be " all for Jesus." I can't describe the happiness 
He puts into any heart that will only give itself up 
altogether to Him, not wishing to keep one single bit 
back. And I want you to have this, and to have it now ; 
not to wait till illness or great trouble come, and you feel 
driven at last to Him. No ! that is simply " too bad ! " 
Jesus says, "Come now!" not, "come when everything 
else has turned bitter." And if you come now, and sur- 


render to Him now, you will have the peace now and 
the gladness now ; and I can tell you it is worth having, 
because I have it, and so I know it is. It is a grand 
thing to start out early, and be on the Lord's side all 
along. Oh, what an amount of sorrow it will save you if 
He gives you grace to do it ! But come now, for Jesus 
of Nazareth is passing by, and many are getting His 
blessing. Don't wait, either to get better or to feel 

(To the same.} 

I know you must have thought me very hard upon 
you on Friday morning : but what could I do ? I see 
you, a young, fresh life, redeemed by the precious blood 
of Christ, believing and owning what He has done for 
you, with grand possibilities of power in His cause, and 
I think endowed with special gifts of influence and 
attraction, one who might be, and do so much, for Jesus ; 
and, yet, Jesus does not come first ! And you know it 
might be otherwise and ought to be otherwise. You are 
"entangled" when you might be "free" in His "glorious 
liberty " ; you are unsatisfied, yes, and dissatisfied, and 
you might be " abundantly satisfied." He has dealt 
bountifully with you, and now what shall you render to 
Him ? Has not the practical answer been : " Just as 
much as I can conveniently spare, after I have rendered 
all that society asks, and that self or personal enjoyment 
claims ! just as much as I can spare Him with risk of 
the least awkwardness, or remark, or self denial ? Of 
course, one must give up the bulk of one's time, and 
talents, and influence, and thoughts, and desires, and 
efforts, to other things ; but He shall have just the chips 


and shavings, tHe odds and ends, of whatever I don't 
particularly want for myself or for anybody else ! " Does 
it not, practically, amount to this ? And shall it continue 
to do so ? Oh, be " true-hearted, ft'/fo/<?-hearted." Be 
really His faithful soldier and servant. Throw over- 
board for ever the divided allegiance, which is valueless. 
Be " only for Jesus," and you will start out on a new 
life of blessedness, beyond anything you can imagine ; 
and you will never, never ^ NEVER have a regret that 
you listened to, and obeyed, His own "Follow Me," 
even if it involves (as it will) taking up a cross, for 
there is no true following exempt from it, only the very 
cross will be gilded with glory. Do not be surprised 
if 7 never say another word again about it. I feel 
that I have said my say to you, and that I can say no 
more. The Master will send me to others, but I think 
not again to you. I can now only leave you, with one 
more cry for blessing, at His feet. Oh that He would 
say to you " Arise and shine ! " 

(To - -.) 

To-morrow your manhood begins. Whose shall it be ? 
How much of it shall be for Him ? Shall it be, still, 
"some for self, and some for Thee ;J ? What if He had 
not made a whole offering ? what if He had not given 
His whole self for you ? Answer the question, face it to- 
night, " How much owest thou unto my Lord ? " Think 
of that, and you will be glad that there is anything to give 
up for Him. And, as for " giving up," there is not a 
true servant of Christ who does not know that the 
Master's words come true, "he shall receive an 


hundredfold now in this time" I know it for myself. 
Can't you take your Lord's own word for it, and trust- 
fully say, " Yea, let Him take //"? CAN you deliberately 
say, "Well, Jesus shall have/#r/j I'll see what I can 
spare for Him AFTER my boating friends, and all the 
things that ' a man must do, you know,' have had their 
due share." That is what it comes to. But you cannot 
serve two, much less several, masters. For, if you are 
serving self, and pleasure, and the world, even a little, you 
are serving Christ's enemy, and not serving Him really at 
all, because He accepts no divided service. It is very 
solemn ; but won't you, on this solemn, great, dividing 
time of your life, look steadily at the reality of the case, 
and decide, once for all, whose your real service shall be ? 
Oh, if it might but be that the great, joyful transaction 
might be done this very night, before the clock strikes 
twelve, so that not even one hour of your manhood 
should be " for another," but only and all for Jesus ! 
Oh, don't be afraid of taking the plunge ; give yourself 
over into His hands, and then it will be His part to keep 
you, and you may trust Him for the keeping ; you will 
not find Him fail you. Yield yourself unto God (Rom. 
vi. 13) altogether, body, soul, and spirit, all your powers 
and all your members. And then see if He won't use 

you ! He always does ! Dear , I wish I had an 

angel's tongue to persuade you to believe what blessed- 
ness you are on the edge of, if you would only give your- 
self "in FULL and glad surrender" to Jesus, and be 
" true-hearted, w/w/^-hearted." But I want you for my 
Master's sake, far more than for your own ! I can't bear 
those who might be even officers, let alone recruits, in His 
army to be contented to stay at home as it were, and 


only fight their own. little private battles for their own 
ends, and the cause of the Redeemer left to take its 
chance ! Oh, if we might be able to say to-morrow the 
verses I have stuck on this letter ! I am so happy 
whenever there is " another voice to tell it out " ; won't 
you be " another " ? I must not stay up writing, but 
I don't think I shall soon sleep. God helping me, I will 
not let Him go except He bless you. 
Once more, How much for Jesus ? 

(.To - -.) 

I am so glad and thankful you have been to the 
Mildmay Conference. People don't go, because they 
don't know, till they have been, what it really is. Your 
description is one of the best I ever heard. " To him 
that hath shall be given " is always coming true ; it is 
the folks who already have grace enough, who make the 
effort to put themselves in the way of having more. 

I could not, do what I would, manage to get up any 
very strong emotion at hearing of your being laid up 
again ! It did seem so very like as if the Lord were 
determined you should not drift away, at once, into a 
different atmosphere, where all the " other things entering 
in" should choke the word you have heard. And, 
suppose you have to stay and get mixed up with the 
tent work, it will be worth more to you as a sworn 
soldier of Jesus Christ than all the honours Cambridge 
has to bestow. 

. . . I am most anxious that you should be a true 
Christian friend to . Don't, oh don't help to 


introduce him to any men, or anything, which would be 
hindrance and not help either in seeking or following 
Jesus. Don't, merely because it might be pleasant to 
him, have the responsibility of bringing bini into any 
path which you have found does not lead nearer to Jesus. 
And do take him to hear Mr. Aitken when he comes to 

. Forgive me, but souls are souls, and it does not 

do to play with them, and seniors have serious responsi- 

I think you would find it very useful to take in The 
Clergyman's Magazine for yourself now, without waiting 
till you are ordained. I sent you a prospectus of it. 
There were capital articles all last year. 

(To Miss Shekkton.) 


, , . My experience is, that it is nearly always just 
in proportion to my sense of personal insufficiency in 
writing anything, that God sends His blessing and power 
with it ; so I don't wonder that your papers are so sweet 
and helpful ! I think He must give us that total depend- 
ence on Him for every word, which can only come by 
feeling one's own helplessness and incapacity, before He 
can very much use us. And so I think this very sense of 
not having gifts is the best and most useful gift of them 
all. It is so much sweeter to have to look up to Him 
for every word one writes. I often smile when people 
call me " gifted," and think how little they know the real 
state of the case, which is that I not only feel that I 
can't, but really can't, write a single verse unless I go to 
Him for it and get it from Him. 


But, in this sweet access and supply, you and I have 
a " better thing " than the grandest natural gifts ; and as 
for being slow or quick in production, it may be some 
tiny sentence written in five seconds, and never thought 
of before, which may do the widest and truest work for 
Jesus. Yours, in our dear Master. 

(T0 .) 

. . . I suppose it was the " silver and gold" line 
that was objected to; and I do think that couplet, 
" Take my silver and my gold, Not a mite would I with- 
hold," is peculiarly liable to be objected to by those 
who do not really understand the spirit of it, don't 
you ? So I am not a bit surprised ! Yes, " not a 
mite would I withhold " ; but that does not mean that, 
because we have ten shillings in our purse, we are 
pledged to put it all into the next collecting plate, else 
we should have none for the next call ! But it does mean 
that every shilling is to be, and I think I may say is, 
held at my Lord's disposal, and is distinctly not my own ; 
but, as He has entrusted to me a body for my special 
charge, I am bound to clothe that body with His silver 
and gold, 'so that it shall neither suffer from cold, nor 
bring discredit upon His cause ! I still forget some- 
times, but as a rule I never spend a sixpence without 
the distinct feeling that it is His, and must be spent for 
Him only, even if indirectly. 

With the same common sense, she explains her 
reasons for dressing very nicely. 

The outer should be the expression of the inner, not 

VISITS IN 1877. 241 

an ugly mask or disguise. If the King's daughter is to 
be " all glorious within," she must not be outwardly a 
fright ! I must dress both as a lady and a Christian. 
The question of cost I see very strongly, and do not con- 
sider myself at liberty to spend on dress that which might 
be spared for God's work j but it costs no more to have 
a thing well and prettily made, and I should only feel 
justified in getting a costly dress if it would last pro- 
portionately longer. When working among strangers, if 
I dressed below par, it would attract attention and might 
excite opposition ; by dressing unremarkably, and yet 
with a generally pleasing effect, no attention is dis- 
tracted. Also, what is suitable in one house is not so in 
another, and it would be almost an insult to appear at 
dinner among some of my relatives and friends in what 
I could wear without apology at home ; it would be an 
actual breach of the rule " Be courteous "j also, I should 
not think it right to appear among wedding guests in a 
dress which would be perfectly suitable for wearing to 
the Infirmary. But I shall always ask for guidance in 
all things ! 

The year 1877 was passed uneventfully at her 
home, or in visits to her brother or sisters, to 
Ashley Moor, and to London. The distressing 
illness of our dear mother was a source of deep 
anxiety ; Frances writes to her : 

More pain, dearest mother? May it be more sup- 
port, more grace, more tenderness, from the God of all 
comfort, more and more ! May we not expect the 



" mores " always to be in tender proportion to each 
other ? Your loving child. 

A few characteristic extracts from some of her 
letters at this time may here be given. 

Instead of printing E. L. Goreh's verses to me (" Sweet 
Singer "), which can do no good at all, persuade her to 
print and sell her splendid little appeal, " Listen, 
Christian sisters " ; there would be some use in that, and 
I would much rather not those to myself. 

Do get instantly " Our Coffee Room," by Miss Cotton. 
It is so racily graphic and natural, so telling, and so hard 
to put down, that you had better not begin it late at 
night ! 

I have been immensely struck with the passages in 
which our Master, our Example, uses the word " musf" 
and the great contrast with our use of it. Only compare 
when anyone says "but I must do so and so," with 
Christ's " I must's" It is a really helpful bit of Bible 
search, for we must follow Him in this or we are " not 
worthy of Him." 

Do not hesitate to smite me. I dread nothing so 
much as smooth things. I would rather " faithful 
wounds." I do not see how I can like doing . . . 
and yet I am in honour bound to carry it through. I 
was absolutely content and happy in it as being His 
doing, but subsequent delays and mistakes seemed alto- 
gether human and not His doing at all. 


God has been leading me for some time by a way 
which I knew not, both outwardly and inwardly. I 
want closer contact with Jesus, more constant com- 
munion, more patience, more everything ; sometimes I 
seem to have nothing, only that I know Jesus will not fail, 
will not loose me. He is very wisely giving me a much 
longer learning time, before letting me do any more 
teaching. . . . 

I do indeed need grace and tact and patience and 
comfort very much just now. It's just a case of " No- 
body knows but Jesus " ; and I feel it is good for me. I 
am thrown the more on His own strength and sympathy, 
in what is to me " under the surface " trial ; but I know 
the Lord is right. . . . 

I am to be godmother to dear little H ; will it not. 

be a peculiarly solemn trust ! Do pray that he may be 
Christ's faithful soldier and servant, not only unto the 
end, but from the beginning t I do so want him to be a 
^-witness for Christ I long, more and more, for 
people to be not just "saved so as by fire," but to be 
right-down thorough-going witnesses for Christ. 

(To D. S.) 

What shall I do ? Your letter would take two hours 
to answer, and I have not ten minutes ; fifteen to twenty 
letters to write every morning, proofs to correct, editors 
waiting for articles, poems and music I cannot touch, 
American publishers clamouring for poems or any manu- 
scripts, four Bible readings or classes weekly, many 
anxious ones waiting for help, a mission week coming, 

244 MEMORIALS OF F. ff. tt. 

and other work after that. And my doctor says my 
physique is too weak to balance the nerves and brain, 
and that I ought not to touch a pen. If you could see 
the pressure on me, you would not think me wet-blanket- 
ing if I do not answer all your queries. " Mission 

Week ! " if that sort of thing won't do in , it is 

the very reason why it is wanted ; no agency seems to 
me more blessed than that. 

"Bride of Christ?" Study (I don't mean read 
through) the Canticles, and look at the practical sweet- 
ness, comfort, and beauty of the type; also look at 
Ezekiel xvi. and Hosea ii. Your own Bible will be your 
best answerer. 

Work out this glorious subject : i Samuel xii. 24, 
" Consider," Psalm cxxvi. 3 " hath done," Joel ii. 2 1 
"will do"; and then (practical) Luke viii. 39, "show" 
not merely " tell" what great things He has done. What 
"great things" does your Bible tell He hath done and 
will do? You will find it inexhaustible ! 

Yours in affectionate haste. 

(To .) 

Don't you see He has broken the yoke (Isa. x. 27), 
only you keep rubbing the place where it pressed, and 
are feeling stiff ! When splints are taken off a broken leg, 
you feel as if they were still on. " Believe, and ye shall 
be free indeed." Will you set yourself to search out what 
He says about it ? Put all the texts down, and be pre- 
pared to write under them either, " I believe what God 
says," or " I believe what I feel, and not what He says." 
Try it 1 Now I must dash off to another topic, because 


I must hand to you what flashed out splendidly to me 
last night: " Beloved of God, called to be saints!" 
That for you and me. Only think ! It seems to include 
everything. Will you let that be your pillow to- 
morrow night ? 

(To Miss Williams?) 

Thanks for your sweet benediction. If you remember 
me in prayer, will you ask that I may be kept always 
and only at Jesus' feet, never anywhere else. It is the 
only place safe from vain glory. Thank you for your 
valuable gift of the " History of Wales." I do so like 
your book, "Literary Women." The sad sketch of 
L. E. L.'s life and character struck me very much. 
What a contrast to Hannah More ! 

It seems as if more waiting than working were to be 
my lot; but it is such rest to be quite satisfied with His 
choice for me. 

(To Mrs. R .) 

68, MILDMAY PARK, October 1877. 
Would Lizzie like to send her baby-house with its 
twenty dolls to the Mildmay Orphanage ? I see it would 
be most gratefully received as a gift to the Mildmay 
work. Mrs. Pennefather invited me here. I was going 
away on Saturday, but caught cold at the quarterly meet- 
ing of the Association of Female Workers. I sat in a 
draught. I knew I was in for a proper cold, so implored 
them to let me go across to their Home for Invalids 
(which I had taken a great fancy to), and lie there a few- 
days. But they would not let me get into a cold cab as a 
specimen of Mildmay nursing, so thereupon I resigned 


myself to an extra week here. And, verily, they do know 
how to nurse, and, what's more (!), how to keep you 
quiet. Also they do know how to pray ! I have learnt a 
little, I hope, on that subject this last week. What I 
hear and see here is quite a new light on intercessory 
prayer. I thought I knew something of its power and 
reality, but I see I did not know much. 

Mrs. Pennefather took me (before my cold) to 
Clapton House. I only wish every girl I care for 
was there ; such a beautiful, Christian school. I got 
any amount of bright looks (as it seems they knew 
my books), and I wanted exceedingly to go among 
them. Hearing the Principal say she would be pre- 
vented taking their Bible class, I ventured the pro- 
posal to take it. Afterwards, I had about a dozen all 
to myself in the drawing-room, for a talk with any that 
wanted special help. They were told to get chairs. 
"Oh," I said, " dorit sit all in a row a long way off; 
come up close and cosy; we can talk ever so much 
better then, can't we?" You should have seen how 
charmed they were, and clustered niece-fashion all round 
me. We did have such a sweet hour; it was rather 
after the " question-drawer " manner ; but all their little 
questions or difficulties seemed summed up by one of 
them, " We do so want to come closer to Jesus." 

I was very sorry not to hear one of Mrs. Pennefather's 
beautiful addresses, but she could not move her head 
from the pillow. Mrs. Charlesworth took the subject. I 
was so cosily out of the way in the back seat, revelling 
in being quite incog., when it was announced, " Miss 
F. R. H. is here, and we hope she will say a few words." 
I sat quiet. " She is here," said Miss S , so that 


I was obliged to startle my neighbours by rising, but I 
simply said I came there to learn, not to teach. Then 
Annie Macpherson made a bright little speech on en- 
couragements to prayer. Then followed such greetings 
from her and from Misses De Broen and Blundell, Mrs. 
Hudson Taylor, just come from China, and Miss Mac- 
lean, who has been working twelve years all alone, and 
both the latter told me how the Lord had sent them the 
same blessing He had to us. Mrs. Bayly, of " Ragged 
Homes," Miss Bayly, just back from Australia, and 
many more spoke to me. It is such a privilege to be 
one of such an Association. And you don't see a dismal 
face among them ! And they are so affectionate, the 
Sun is so bright that there's no ice left to be broken. 

But oh, Mrs. R , what shall I render to the Lord 

for His immense mercies to me ? for there was not one 
that spoke to me but wanted to tell me of some blessing 
through my books or leaflets. 

Everything is so well ordered at Mildmay, and Mrs. P. 
is so very calm and calming ; she comes and gives me 
a text at night with a sort of hushing power. 

(To S. B. P.) 

I want to hand over to you my own last crumb from 
the King's table, only it is more than a crumb. " Be- 
loved of God, called to be saints." All that for you and 
me ! " Greatly beloved," for of course God cannot love 
just a little! And what a calling! "high," "holy," 
heavenly ! Does not this seem a little lovely epitome 
of our position ? 


The following lines were written impromptu in 
S. B. P.'s album. 


(Gen. v. 22.) 
So ma> 'st thou walk ! from hour to hour 

Of every brightening year ; 

Keeping so very near 
To Him, whose power is love, whose love is power. 

So may'st thou walk ! in His clear light, 
Leaning on Him alone, 
Thy life His very own, 

Until He takes thee up to walk with Him in white. 
March 31 st, 1877. 

Though no reference has been made to the 
" Christian Progress Scripture Reading Union," 
my dear sister was a most active member, and 
the means of enrolling hundreds of others. The 
number on her card of membership is 1667. She 
often wrote for the magazine, and at one time (to 
relieve her friend, Mr. Boys) undertook his work as 
editor for three months. One sentence from a 
letter, and her explanatory paper on the object of 
the Union, will suffice to show her practical interest. 

(To S. G. P.) 

Do you know the " Christian Progress Union " ? I 
tmd it is the most valuable adjunct to work, i.e. work 


with souls, that I ever had. It puts people on the rails 
of regular reading, and a double line is worth more than 
twice as much as a single one. Hence I value its 
arrangement for two chapters to be read daily. I enjoy 
it immensely for myself, but value it for others. Do 
join ! 

For further explanation as to the Union and its 
benefits, the reader is referred to the Appendix, 
where F. R. H.'s paper on the subject is given in 


Syra pathy with sorrowful suffering "Just as Thou wilt" The 
mother's last smile Called to rest The home nest stirred 
up Clear guidance " Another little step " Last days 
in Leamington Nieces and nephews Devonshire visits 
The Welsh nest " My study " The harp piano More 
work The sweep of Jehovah's pencil Bible readings 
" Take my love " Songs in a weary Christmas night. 

" T F one member suffer, all the members suffer 
with it." During the winter and spring of 
1877-8 our dear second mother was passing through 
intense suffering. Though most patiently borne, 
it was very sorrowful to witness. The sympathy 
of many friends in Leamington, and the devotion 
of our dear old friend, Miss Nott, gave untold 
comfort both to the sufferer and to Frances. But 
with marvellous energy our mother still carried on 
her Zenana meetings and those of the A. F. W. 
Society, until at last the diligent worker, the bright 
and loving friend, the counsellor of many, was 
called away. Some lines, by our dear father, 
exactly describe the patience and the desire of his 
beloved -\rife : 


Just as Thou wilt ! Be all to me, 
E'en when Thy hand smites heavily ! 
On brightest day or darkest night, 
Whate'er is Thine is right. 

Just as Thou wilt! Should anguish fierce 
With scorpion stings my body pierce, 
111 praise Thee if on me Thou 'It shine, 
And whisper " I am thine ! " 

On her last day, and after long unconscious- 
ness, she suddenly recognised Frances, who was 
kneeling by her. Her smile was startlingly sweet ; 
it was the last. 

On Sunday, May 26th, 1878, the end came ; 
for weariness, rest ; for suffering, glory ; for the 
loneliness of widowhood, the reunion for ever. In 
Astley Churchyard she 

"Rests where her loved ones rest, 

And joins the throng 
Of them who see the Lamb 
And sing that endless song." 

(W. H. H.) 

(To Hon. F.Dillon.) 

If ever a cup of cold water came at the right 
moment, it was your overwhelmingly kind letter. It 
came on the seventh day of poor suffering mother's 
dying. The painful tension to me has been excessive ; 
your note was a singular relief, if only for a few minutes, 
in those days of grief. To witness that strangely dis- 


tressing illness has been by " terrible things " answering 
my eager prayer for more teaching and closer drawing 
at any cost. So now I expect the " afterwards," which, 
as yet, I certainly don't feel. But it is something to set 
to one's own personal seal that God is true to a whole 
set of promises, with which one could have nothing to 
do except in very real trial of some sort, and one may as 
well let Him choose what sort. 

Many arrangements and perplexities now 
devolved upon us, in the breaking up of our 
Leamington home. Dear Frances' unfailing trust, 
and her assurance that God would guide our 
steps aright, was to me most calming and sus- 
taining. She was just a daily illustration of 
"Without Carefulness." We both needed quiet; 
and as we remembered our pleasant rambles many 
years ago on the cliffs beyond the Mumbles, 
we went there, and our brother joined us. 
Frances at once wished us to secure united lodg- 
ings for our winter home, and in this I entirely 
agreed. Returning from Wales I went with my 
dear sister into Herefordshire, staying with some 
worthy people at the " Highlands " farm, near 
Titley. The good man was quite deaf, and my 
sister's dexterity, in talking on her fingers to 
him and rapidly transferring on them the sermons 
at church, was another of her ceaseless ministries. 
From the high ground of the rabbit warren the 


view is panoramic. And there stands the fir tree, 
beneath which my sister had written her poem 
" Zenith." It was there she sketched the earthly 
zeniths, and compared them with the broad sun- 
light of the true zenith, the true shining 

". . . That should rise and rise, 
From glory unto glory, through God's skies, 
In strengthening brightness and increasing power; 
A rising with no setting, for its height 
Could only culminate in God's eternal light." 

Those quiet lodgings were restful to us both, 
and we received such kind attentions from Mr. and 
Mrs. Mainwaring as ensured our comfort, until we 
returned to Leamington to break up our home. 
The following letters belong to that period. 

LEAMINGTON, August 1878. 

The Lord has shown me another little step, and of 
course I have taken it with extreme delight. " Take my 
silver and my gold " now means shipping off all my 
ornaments (including a jewel cabinet which is really fit 
for a countess) to the Church Missionary House, where 
they will be accepted and disposed of for me. I retain 
only a brooch or two for daily wear, which are memorials 
of my dear parents ; also a locket with the only portrait 
I have of my niece in heaven, my Evelyn ; and her " two 
rings," mentioned in "Under the Surface." But these I 
redeem, so that the whole value goes to the Church 
Missionary Society. I had no idea I had such a 
jeweller's shop, nearly fifty articles are being packed off. 


I don't think I need tell you I never packed a box with 
such pleasure. 

(To Hon. F. Dillon.'] 

. . . Don't I recollect you, and the wonderful 
sermon we had just heard on Revelation iii. 12? I 
always read your articles first in Woman's Work, for oh, 
I do like writing which is both q and J, and yours is 
exceedingly both. I don't think there has been a day 
these three weeks that your name has not been in my 
mind, so that I was quite startled to see your name at 
the end of the letter ! " Reason why " : the editor of 
Christian Progress has broken down ill; and, though 
some of my friends thought it almost sinful of me, I 
could not refuse his request that I would relieve him foi 
three months as editor. Never, except as an act of 
sheer mercy and pity, will I be an editor. Letter after 
letter to various "lights," whom I entreated to illumi- 
nate their 14,000 readers on various topics, brought 
hardly anything but regretful refusals. Everybody is too 
busy. (I wish people would believe I was \ if they did 
I should get a little more breathing time to do my own 
work.) May I ask you to contribute a paper on a Bible 
subject, as Miss Whately and I are both writing a series 
on practical points, she on the negatives, I on the posi- 
tives, of Christian life. Otherwise some of your " Dead 
Flies" or "Polished Corners" series would have done 
splendidly. I am so glad you touch the seniors in your 
paper this month j you are generally hardest on the 
juniors. I longed for a second paper on unpunctuality, 
for the seniors. My experiences have been chiefly more of 
the hindrance their unpunctuality is ! for if the mistress 

LETTER. 255 

is late at meals, and does not see the value of punctuality 
in general, everybody has to suffer far more than for any 
juvenile delinquent. I can't let your letter pass without 
loving thanks (and I have thanked Him), and just a 
word of wonder that you should find help from my words. 
There are few things one feels so unworthy of as even 
to bear His messages, let alone see His seal set upon 
them. I can understand others being used, but not 
my being used. I can only say I am not worthy of the 
least of His mercies. What you said about His " tell- 
ing," and the love revealed in it, was so real and sweet to 
hear. Is it not one of the many secrets of the Lord, this 
"telling"? . . . Last, but not least, my sister and 
I are both so struck with your thought on " The Lord 
shall be thy rereward." Some special circumstances 
make it just the right word for me. Then of course this 
sent me to the whole chapter, and that has been food 
and strength. Yesterday was my last Sunday evening 
in [what had been] my father's home. I don't suppose I 
shall ever, exactly, have a home again. But I am very 
happy in the " stirring up " of the nest ; every new expe- 
rience of the " changes and chances " takes one into a 
new province of the land of promise. And I have my 
sister, and we are going to live together for the winter 
in South Wales. She is almost everything to me. I 
wish I could entirely "tell it out" how good God is to 
me ! Don't you find there are some things one can say 
better than write ! I can't write at all, as I would, how 
good He is, the ink would boil in my pen ! Oh for a 
seraph's tongue to tell ! Well, we shall be able some 
day. Till then, and then, I am and shall be 

Yours lovingly^ 


On our last Sunday evening in Leamington 
we went to Trinity Church ; and the concluding 
hymn was my sister's, " Thou art coming, O my 
Saviour." The farewell kindness of many clergy 
and friends is well remembered. Characteristically, 
on our last home evening, Frances sent for a 
number of night-school boys, giving them baskets 
of books and magazines, maps for their library, a 
magic lantern, etc. And I don't think they have 
forgotten how she gathered them round her piano, 
singing with them " Tell it out ;" and then followed 
her bright farewell words. For these boys she 
wrote some simple verses and chorus, "Jesus 
delivers me now " (unpublished). 

Frances spent a great part of the month of 
August with our dear brother Henry's widow and 
family, in Somersetshire. They had bright loving 
intercourse ; deep searchings together with their 
Bibles ; and music, in which all could take a 
skilful part, solos and choruses resounding the 
praises of Him they loved, and whom one of them 
was so soon to see. 

May I say that the love of every one of her 
numerous nieces and nephews was ever accounted 
by their aunt as one of God's good gifts, casting 
refreshing fragrance on her path. What she was 
to them, no words of mine can tell ! 

Then came a journey into Devonshire ; she writes 




from Looseleigh, near Plymouth : " I am indeed 
in clover with these kind friends, and it is very 
pleasant meeting so many who prayed for me in 
my illness, though quite a stranger." My sister 
addressed a large gathering of ladies in Plymouth, 
in connection with the Y. W. C. A. Some time 
after this she wrote out her notes on the subject 
of her address, "All Things/' (See Appendix.) 

One happy Sunday was spent with other new 
friends, in a very Eden of trees, and flowers, and 
birds, and holy fellowship. A brief visit was also 
paid to her friends at Newport, of which she said 
it was "like breathing the air of the land of 

Early in October my sister joined me in our 
Welsh retreat. How I remember her first words 
to me : "I wanted so to get to you, Marie dear ! " 
She was so very tired, that even the sea air 
and perfect rest failed to refresh her for some 
time. Afterwards, she thoroughly enjoyed the 
walks and scrambles on the cliffs; at low tide 
springing lightly over boulders to beds of sea- 
weeds, and rocky pools bright with sea anemones, 
and then calling to me to watch the white-crested 
waves, " the wind dashing them back like confirm- 
ation veils." Or, watching the vessels with all 
sails up entering the harbour, she would speak of 
the " abundant entrance into the everlasting king- 



dom." Delighting in all knowledge, she studied 
the "Nautical Almanac," and at the top of the 
Mumbles lighthouse learnt all that the keeper 
could tell her. Her tastes were so simple, delight- 
ing in wild flowers, and in animals, from the great 
St. Bernard dogs to her pet kittens. 

We made her study cosy with home comforts, 
and she called it her " workshop." She arranged 
her pictures : by the door was her motto " For 
Jesus' sake only," and her Temperance pledge card ; 
besides, were her father's portrait, and below it 
"Sunset on the Lake of Geneva," "The martyrs 
in prison," "Astley Church and Rectory," also 
" The Snow Peaks of the Dent du Midi," and the 
''Alpine Geum," (choice gifts from her friend Helga 
v. Cramm,) with many home portraits and busts. 

Her small but choice library showed the variety 
of her taste, classical, foreign, poetical, with 
many works on science, geology, etc.; Humboldt's 
and Professor Ritchie's works (his last gift) 
she much enjoyed, wJicn the scant leisure came. 
(The last books she had in reading were : " The 
Earth's Formation on Dynamical Principles," by 
A. T. Ritchie ; Goodwin's Works ; " The Life and 
Letters of the Rev. W. Pennefather," of which she 
said, "I find such food in that book"; and "The 
Upward Gaze," by her friend Agnes Giberne, with 
which she was delighted.) 


May I sketch her at her study table, in her 
favourite chair from Astley Rectory, older than 
herself? Her American type-writer was close by, 
so that she could turn to it from her desk ; it was 
a great relief to her eyes, but its rapid working 
often told me she was busy when she should 
have rested. Her desk and table drawers were 
all methodically arranged for letters from editors, 
friends, relatives, strangers, matters of business, 
multitudinous requests, Irish Society work, manu- 
scripts ; paper and string in their allotted corners, 
no litter ever allowed. It was at her study table 
that she read her Bible by seven o'clock in the 
summer and eight o'clock in winter ; her Hebrew 
Bible, Greek Testament, and lexicons being at 
hand. Sometimes, on bitterly cold mornings, I 
begged that she would read with her feet com- 
fortably to the fire, and received the reply : " But 
then, Marie, I can't rule my lines neatly ; just see 
what a find I've got ! If one only searches, there 
are such extraordinary things in the Bible ! " 

Her harp-piano was placed on a stand she con- 
trived by dexterous carpentering. It was at this 
instrument she composed her last sacred song, 
" Loving all Along," and many other melodies 
to her hymns in " Loyal Responses." * Often I 

These will probably soon be published by Ilutchings and Romer. 


heard flashes of melody thereon, that came un- 
bidden amid severer work. 

In the south window, its sea view stretching 
over to Ilfracombe, stood her little table, flowers, 
and easy chair. Her sofa faced the west window, 
with the view of Caswell Bay and its rocks, and 
there the sunsets came, which we so often watched 

It may be useful to younger readers to mention 
how resolutely she refrained from late hours, and 
frittering talks at night, instead of Bible searching 
and holy communings. Early rising and early 
studying were her rule through life, while punctu- 
ality, and bright, quick, cheerincss characterized 
all she did. She writes: "'In order' (i Cor. 
xiv. 40) is something more than being tidy \ some- 
thing analogous to ' keeping rank.' " 

To a friend, Frances wrote at this time : 

I don't think I ever felt more thankful and glad for 
anything than on reaching this quiet little nest. God has 
so graciously and perfectly met our special need. I must 
pass on to you the last text I have been enjoying, 
Exodus xv. 13: what can we want more ! and it is Thy 
mercy and strength all along. And then the "holy 
habitation " of the present, and the future one, from 
which we shall " go no more out." 

But the "lull in life" never came, even in Wales* 


"Rest!" There is none for me apparently. Every 
post brings more letters from strangers alone than I and 
my sister can answer. It is nine months since I have 
had a chance of doing a stroke of new work ! But 
letters were a trouble to Nehemiah as well as to me 
(Neh. vi. 4), and I must try to make it always work for 
my King. 

It may seem strange that she should have had 
so to wear her strength away; and the following 
requests, which came by one post, will show what 
labour was required in answering them all. 

Request for contribution to Irish Church Advocate. 
Hymns for special New Year services wanted. To 
write cards suitable for mourners. For set of six 
more "Marching Orders." Request for poems to 
illustrate six pictures. For prayer, sympathy and counsel 
(two sheets crossed). Two sheets from a septuagenarian, 
requiring thought. Request to write a book suitable for 
Unitarians. Sundry inquiries and apologies from one 
who had been printing her verses with another author's 
name. Request to reprint an article, with four explana- 
tory enclosures. Also to revise a proof and add my 
opinion. To revise many sheets of musical manu- 
scripts. Three requests to supply cards for bazaars. 
Advice wanted how to get articles inserted in magazines. 
To recommend pupils. To promote a new magazine. 
To give opinion on an oratorio. Some long poems 
in manuscript to revise and advise thereon. Besides 
packets of leaflets and cards wanted. 

In addition to all this, musical proofs reached 

262 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

her almost daily, which often required many 
hours of careful revision and thought ; and those 
accustomed to the sight of the Fireside Almanack 
will remember how "the sayings of the Lord 
Jesus" had there been arranged by her for the 
year which was her last. All this absorbed an 
amount of time which can scarcely now be real- 
ized ; and yet she always wrote pleasantly and 
cheerily, and many a word of refreshment came 
from that wearied hand. Unasked, she undertook 
to chapterizc the manuscript of "Never Say 
Die,"* and to add the required headings. Writing 
to S. G. P., she says : 

Time spent on it is overpaid ; it brings to me all the 
sweetness and freshness of the old, old story. I keep 
reading it for myself. My sister agrees with me that 
the book is exceptional, and in fact unique ; and I do 
trust that you may have, or rather that the Master may 
have, a very harvest of souls from its circulation. 

To its author, when working among the mourners 
at the Nant-y-glo colliery, she writes : 

I enclose you a wee bit more, it has been quite a 
weight on my mind that I could not do more to help 
such terrible need. I was pledged to other collections, 
and my own purse is not unfathomable. So I was 
driven to do at last what I had much better have done 

* " Never Say Die." By S. G. Prout. Nisbet & Co. 

LETTER. 263 

at first, viz. pray that the Lord would show me some 
way of sending a little^ and of course two or three ways 
flashed into my mind. May the good Lord give you 
many souls for your hire, for this service. 

(To Cecilia.} 

THE MUMBLES, October 1878. 

. . . I have often found that the greater the 
difficulties, the greater the " very present help " ; and of 
course Jesus will be " the same " to you, dear Ceci. . 
. . If ever one had gracious guidance in one's life it is 
now ; the place is so precisely what we wanted, a regular 
case of Philippians iv. 19. I was terribly tired and used 
up when I got here, but am ever so much better already, 
though the " rest M has at present been only as to no 
" interviews." . . . Must hand on to you and Edith 
the text which more than any other has struck me in our 
readings lately ; I have lived on it. 

T- j ( Led forth ) In Thy mercy. 

Exodus xv. 13. | Guided \ In T f iy stre f lgth _ 

What would one have more ! And then : 

Redemption ^ C past. 
Holy habitation > < present : Ps. xci. 9. 
) (future. 

" Sweet is Thy mercy," and "great is Thy mercy toward 
me." On Sunday look at Exodus xxxii. 29, and connect 
with John vi. 53-55. Think of "those things" and 
" eat " them : living on, and satisfied with, Christ's 
precious body and blood. " Eat, O friends ! " 

Your loving Aunt. 

264 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

(To an American Friend.} 

October 28, 1878. 

I have not forgotten that I have owed you a letter 

for a long time. And I owe one to and Mrs. 

McCready. Now would you be so very kind as to for- 
ward this letter to them, and will they be so very kind 
as to accept it instead of separate letters. . . . 

Most graciously God strengthened my health wonder- 
fully, as the need deepened during the long and terrible 
suffering of my poor dear mother, a marked instance of 
" as thy day." Still, of course, the strain on mind and 
body has been very great, both for my dear elder sister 
Maria and myself. 

Next followed all that is involved in a final break up 
of home, and overlooking the accumulations of half a 
century all my precious father's books, papers, etc. 
The beginning of this month my dear sister and I 
came here, and settled into snug lodgings on the ridge 
of the western horn of Swansea Bay (six miles from 

I simply could not live, I think, anywhere within hail 
of London, nor much longer in any such lively place as 
Leamington. So I have got away, now, well out of every- 
body's reach ! I am trying, trying, trying, in a sort of 
Tantalian hopelessness, to overtake the letters that pour 
in on me, and to fulfil such requests as I have already 
promised. But, very seriously, I feel that unless I draw a 
line hard and fast, and refuse everybody all round all that 
is asked me to do, until I have cleared up the said 
promises and secured a little rest, I shall get mentally as 


well as bodily exhausted. So, dear friend, I must decline 
to write what you ask for ; it is always pain to me to say 
" no," and I might keep a secretary only to write these 
refusals. That is all the outside. As for under the 
surface, of course it is the old story of marvels of love 
and faithfulness, from microscopically minute to grandly 
magnificent, and sometimes the minutest seem the most 
magnificent. I don't think all the previous years, put 
together, equal this last twelve months for these daily 
miracles of love. Only, most of them, and the most 
wonderful, are from special circumstances, such as have 
to remain among the secrets between one's own soul and 

the ever dearer Master It seems to me 

that God has done for me more than He promised, 
not only supplying all my need, but all my notions. 
. . . Our present abode suits us so perfectly in all 
manner of little ways, that I tell our gracious 
Father I really don't know how to thank Him enough 
for it. ... How I should like to meet my American 
friends ! But I dare not come over. I should be sick all 
the way, and only be a trouble to you ; but, " there 
shall be no more sea ! " 

(To S. G. P.} 

11 Blessed is he that considered! the poor, the Lord 
shall deliver him in the time of trouble." So, dear friend, 
" thou art, now, the blessed of the Lord." Now, while I 
am writing and when you are reading the words, " now " 
the " blessed" of Jehovah. That word " blessed" seems 
to me like a grand outline, traced with one sweep of 
Jehovah's mighty pencil; and who shall say what the 


filling up shall be? Because, you see, it is not our 
idea of "blessed," but God's own idea of it that 
will fill it up. I think, sometimes, Christian workers 
do not take the great comfort for themselves that the 
good Lord means and has provided for them ; there 
is a sort of shrinking from presuming to appropriate the 
conditional character connected with a promise, even 
when it is quite distinctly applicable ; and I regard 
this as a device of the enemy to contrive to withhold 
from them the whole glorious comfort which belongs 
to them. He puts it as a sort of humility ; and I think 
it must grieve our dear Master to have His kindness thus 
frustrated. So, somehow, I am exceedingly anxious to- 
day that you should just revel in the grand definiteness, 
and the still grander /#definiteness, of this word, which 
is yours at this moment. If words mean anything, you 
have been considering the poor ; and so, if words mean 
anything, you are " blessed." I have been praying that 
the Lord would water your own soul very abundantly in 
the midst of your watering, that you may find more and 
more " fresh springs " in Himself, and may receive every 
day His own anointing with " fresh oil " foi your service. 
You are treading peculiarly closely in the plain footsteps 
of the Master, your " own Master " ; and you have not 
even to wait for His sure " Come, ye blessed," you have 
the fore-echo of it now. May He Himself whisper it into 
your heart in the midst of your work, which " He is not 
unrighteous to forget." May I give you another thought ? 
He is sending you into the places whither He Himself 
will come : Luke x. i. You go into one of these places 
of suffering, because Jesus Himself will come there, come 
with His saving power or His pitying love. 


The cottagers around us soon won my sister's 
interest and regard, and she invited them to a 
Bible reading in our house (I may say that she 
never began any work of this kind without the 
Vicar's consent).* She wrote to ask " for a real 
great blessing on an open Bible class which I am 
starting this evening. I don't know who will 
come, few or many ; but I want God's real con- 
verting grace poured out, and I want to be 
enabled so to speak of Jesus that souls may be 
won to Him. There is the centre ; how it just 
goes through one, when one touches upon His own 
beloved name. And how we do want Him to be 
understood and loved." 

(To .) 

I have just been preparing for my next Bible reading. 
You thought I used a great many texts in my Bible 
notes, but it is my way of work. I very seldom run on 
a dozen lines in any book without embodying a text. I 
don't see how one can put too large a proportion of 
God's own words among our own. He never said our 
words should not return void. Besides, I have got into 
the way of it. I don't want to be a spider spinning out 

* I may also add (to remove misapprehension) that this work was 
not in or connected with the town of Swansea, where she only 
once took Vhe Y. W. C. A. meeting, but in the village of Newton, 
six miles from that town. 


of myself! I am so interested in my Bible class. I 
have just been telling one of them I don't wish to lead 
them a nice interesting walk all round the walls of the 
city of refuge, and get them to think what a charming 
place it is; I want to give them a good hard push 

The room in which the class was held was 
always full. She began at once with a subject 
selected from the Christian Progress chapter for the 
day, asking all who came to read the intervening 
chapters by the next meeting, and thus ensuring 
that study of God's word she so eagerly sought 
to encourage. She told me that illustrations 
seemed to overflow upon her when speaking, and 
the reality of her words certainly thrilled her 
hearers. The last evening, she was so exhausted 
that I persuaded her to give up her class, and 
not to attempt larger meetings in the Newton 
schoolroom, which had been thought of. 

On the fourth anniversary of December 2nd, 
1873, my dear sister had written : 

It was a peculiarly trying day as to other things ; but, 
as I was remembering that blessed day, and all the 
blessedness of the way ever since, and the words in 
Jeremiah ii. 2, I cannot tell you the sweetness of it and 
the assurance that He was indeed remembering me. 
" The love of thine espousals." Do look at the verse, 
for it applies just as much to you, dear H , as to me. 


Only, it is but very rarely He gives me such a vividly 
felt message of love. I think it was that He saw I was 
in special need of it ; it was just like Him to send it. 

The hymn in " Loyal Responses/"' " My Lord, 
dost Thou remember me ? " bears the same date. 

On the fifth and last anniversary, December 
2nd, 1878, Frances writes. 

(To f. T. W.) 

I had a great time early this morning, renewing the 
never regretted consecration. I seemed led to run 
over the " Take my life," and could bless Him verse by 
verse for having led me on to much more definite con- 
secration than even when I wrote it, voice, gold, in- 
tellect, etc. But the eleventh couplet, " love," that has 
been unconsciously not filed up. Somehow, I felt 
mystified and out of my depth here : it was a simple and 
definite thing to be done, to settle the voice, or silver and 
gold! but "love"? I have to love others, and I do; 
and I've not a small treasure of it, and even loving in Him 
does not quite meet the inner difficulty. Of course, 
I told Him all that was in my heart as far down as ever 
I knew it myself, and that He knew the rest, and 
so I could only hand over the whole concern to Him, 
and implore Him to make it clear and definite. I don't 
see much clearer, or feel much different ; but I have said 
intensely this morning, " Take my love," and He knows 
I have. So I did not fidget any more, or worry the 
Master any more about it. I shall just go forward and 
expect Him to fill it up : and let my life from this day 


answer really to that couplet. The worst part to me is 
that I don't in practice prove my love to Him, by delight 
in much and long communion with Him; hands and head 
seem so full of " other things," (which yet are His given 
work,) that " heart " seems not " free to serve " in fresh 
and vivid love. 

Swiftly were her words to be realized : 

" For He hath met my longing 

With word of golden tone, 
That I shall serve for ever 

Himself, Himself alone. 
Shall serve Him, and for ever ; 

O hope most sure, most fair I 
The perfect love outpouring 

In perfect service there ! " 

From my notebook : 

December 17, 1878. The sun was shining in our 
breakfast room, when Frances said : " It is a great 
mercy the sunshine of heaven is veiled from our sight, 
or we should be just unfit for earthly duties. I think 
there is a gravitation of the soul to life, as there is in 
bodies to the earth. It's delightful being here ; it was 
curious the strong impression I had to come, I think 
God gave me the wish, and it has turned out all right. 
It is like what poor Howells said to me on the cliffs 
yesterday. I met him in his threadbare coat, and he 
told me how good the Lord was to him, and then, 
as if talking to Him not to me, he said, 'He's been 
particularly good to me ! ' " 


" That splendid sovereign will of our God, made up of 
infinite love and infinite wisdom, nothing seems out of 
perspective when this is our standpoint ; all His words 
and all His ways then stand out, harmonized and 

" Perhaps in heaven we shall be permitted to remember 
all the way the Lord led us, and to recall distinctly all 
the puzzling parts of His guidance and providence, so 
to see glory reflected back from them, as it were, upon 
His wonderful wisdom." 

(To .) 

December 16, 1878. 


You regularly overwhelm me with such kindness. 
Tell Mr. Bullock I don't deserve the Fireside annuals 
and Tablets, one bit. The beautiful shawl will be such 
a comfort. . . . Tell the dear juniors I shall 
imagine there is a little packet of love in the top of each 
finger of the delightful gloves. . . . The Memoir of 
Mr. Pennefather will always be a treasure to me. Do 
you see that he was a pledged supporter of the Irish 
Society ? I was charmed when I saw that ! I know 
people wonder why I am so warm about it, but you see 
I am in first-rate company ! 

Very early on her last Christmas morning she 
awoke in severe pain, and was very ill for some 
days. But she said cheerily : " I really have 
had such songs given me in the night, and some 
Christmas verses for next year came so easily." 

272 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

An hour after: "Oh, Marie; I've done a half-day's 
work already, a whole set of mottoes ; it seemed 
poured into me." These she named "Christmas 
Sunshine," and " Love and Light for the New 
Year." " You can't think the enjoyment it is to 
me to produce anything new. What books I 
should write if I had time ! I wonder if I shall 
always be so pressed with other things ; but never 
mind, it is all ' service.' " And then she spoke of 
her own mother and the little prayer she taught 
her: "'O Lord, prepare me for all Thou art pre- 
paring for me' ; that has been my life prayer." 
Many days of pain and weakness followed, and 
the doctor wished her to have perfect rest. I was 
most thankful to write all the letters I could for 
her now, and at other times. Dear wearied 
sister ! once she said : " I do hope the angels will 
have orders to let me alone a bit, when I first get 
to heaven ! " 


New Year's sunshine Journal of mercies (Facsimile of Bible 
pages) Prayer and intercessions " Work, if the Lord will " 

London His law a delight Prospering "Loving all 
Along " " Bruey " success Irish plans Temperance 
work The oldest friend's visit " Can I go to India?" 

Last Y. W. C. A. address " Little Nony " Last letter? 

Costly stones The last " Sunday crumb " card. 

" AND so the years flowed on, and only cast 
Light, and more light, upon the shining way, 
That more and more shone to the perfect day ; 
Always intenser, clearer than the past j 
Because they only bore her, on glad wing, 
Nearer the Light of Light, the Presence of her King." 


I REMEMBER her New Year's greeting, (i.e. 
January I, 1879,) " 'He crowneth the year with 
His goodness/ and He crowneth me ' with loving- 
kindness and tender mercies.' Yon, dear Marie, are 
one of my mercies ; and I do hope He will let me 
do something for you up in heaven ! " 

A diary she never kept ; but Mrs. Charles 
Bullock sent her a little "Journal of Mercies for 



1879." The entries in this are a mirror of her 
very self, " in every thing giving thanks." Frances 
wrote in acknowledgment : 

"Thanks for the charming Journal you sent 
me, I like it greatly. I put down whichever 
'mercy' seems uppermost in my mind for each 
day ; not one in a thousand though ! " 

We believe the entries for the first three months 
will interest our readers. 


Jan. i st. Able to come downstairs first time. 

2nd. Sleep. 

3rd. Maria, and all her care of me. 

4th. Opportunities of speaking of Christ. 

5th. Rest and leisure to-day. 

6th. Warmth and comfort. 

yth. Spirit of prayer in answer to prayer. 

8th. Relief from mental pressure. 

9th. Maria's health and strength renewed. 

loth. Being enabled to cast care on God. 

nth. Having money to give away. 

1 2th. Finding great spoil in the Word. 

1 3th. Deliverance out of many trials and difficulties. 

i4th. Being withheld from resuming work, and sense 

of God's wise hand in it. 

1 5th. For His hand upon me in weakness. 

1 6th. Finding something of the habit of trust* 

1 7th. A little respite from letter writing. 

1 8th. Milder and beautiful weather. 


Jan. i Qth. Opportunity of help to Mrs. M . 

2oth. That blessing may reach the Princess Beatrice. 

2 1 st. Clearance of my path. 

22nd. My study ! 

23rd. More strength. 

24th. Help in writing for C. S. S. M. 

,, 25th. The promise in Deuteronomy xxx. 6. 

26th. Head and eyes decidedly better. 

,, 27th. Being evidently sent to the Mumbles. 

28th. Travelling mercies. 

,, 29th. Travelling opportunities (to London). 

3oth. Kindness from Mr. and Mrs. W . 

sist. Being allowed to give a word of real comfort. 

Feb. i st. Being in N. and Co.'s hands. 

2nd. A happy Sunday. 

3rd. Acceptance by Hutchings and Romer of 
" Loving all Along." 

4th. Immediate answer to prayer. 

5th. Strength for extra pulls. 

6th. Shielding from cold and rain. 

7th. Need supplied. 

8th. Pleasant guidance. 

9th. Dr. D 's sermons. 

loth. Safe transit to Rev. C. Bullock's. 

,, nth. Quiet day. 

,, 1 2th. Hettie B/s friendship. 

1 3th. Portrait finished. 

1 4th. Pleasant interviews with good men. 

1 5th. Finishing "Echoes," and seeing Amy and 

1 6th. Frustration of plans, and solemn lessons. 

1 7th. Such a comfortable nest to come back to. 


Feb. 1 8th. Our good maid, Mary Farrington. 

1 9th. Fresh air. 

2oth. Immediate answer to prayer for a token for 

2 1 st. Help in need. 

22nd. Done with some musical work. 

23rd. Freedom from pain. 

24th. Able to walk about. 

25th. Opportunities of usefulness. 

26th. Finding the Lord's poor. 

27th. Maria returned all right. 

28th. Fulfilment of Psalm xxxvii. 5, 6. 

Mar. ist. Spring sunshine ! 

2nd. Strange experience. 

3rd. Freedom. 

4th. Maria's writing letters for me. 

5th. Preservation from cold. 

6th. Finding myself freed from what was tempta- 

7th. Answer to prayer that the Lord's call might 
not be wasted. 

8th. Beautiful spring sunset. 

gth. Irresponsibility to any but my Master. 

loth. Finishing my " Kept." 

nth. Donkeys ! 

1 2th. Special application of i Peter iv. 14. 

1 3th. For God's withholdings all my life. 

1 4th. A good day's work done. 

1 5th. Contentment in walking by faith, not by sight. 

1 6th. Having been guided here. 

i yth. Succeeded in starting Mary F with a 

Sunday school class. 

\ f 

t- erf >/;,,--/< - ? . .? 

,,*/,<w y.v: 

- //..?,/.? 

The Epistle of PAUL the Apostle to the HEBREWS. 

. of be>(L 

who* at sundry times and in 
divers manners, spake in time past unto 
He- /?./0the fathers by. the prophets, tv fy.j.lOfJ.J, 
Jo. /y.jf. 2 iluth in thfse last days sj>pken,r unto 
_ //. //>. us bj^, w Son, whom he hath" appointed 
-flc.<P./7h.eir' r of all things, by whom' also he 
P. 9. i9. (made the worlds^ & r . JT~>T. ^ 

3 Who/ bcinfhvthe brightness 
Ju fa.q. glory, and the express image of his 
/?////< son. and upholding alTthings by the w 

power, when he*\had by himself 
ctyurgetl our sins, sat down"*\pn the right 
hand ofj,he Majesty on high ; N. 

4 Beinr made so much bctterxthan the 
Ar/y.^nngcls, as na hath by ..inheritance detained 
f^.f. f a more exceUeht name tFian they. J? 

5 For unto watch of the angels said he 

. -f->>' any time, Thou' arb,my Son, this day have 
I begotten theo? AnUagain, I will be to 
him a Father, and he shall be to me a Son? 

6 * And again, when heHjringeth in the 
firstbegotten into the world, Be saith, And 

fr-M'/lef all the angels of God worsl 

7 And of the angels he en 
maketh his angels spirits, and 
ters a flame of lire. 

'P. <<)Q A. . 8 But unto the Son he saith, Thy 
fit f. /$. throne, O God, it for ever and ever: a 
T.1 7. 2 sceptre of n righteousness is the sceptre 

of thy kingdom : 

9 Thou hast loved righteousness, and x 
f. 4 /f. Jiatcd iniquity ; therefore God, even Uty 
anointed theo with the on of 
ove thy fellows. 
J's ft* rTOAnd, Thou, Lord, in the beginning 
Gr./.r. hast lahl the foundation of the earth; 

and the heavens are the works of thine 

hands : 

/ Jo -2 //ll They shaiknerish, but thou remain- 
J>. j:t./fest: and they alTahall wax old as doth a 

garment : 

12 And as a vesture'Hialt thou fold them 
up, and they shall be changed : but thou art 

Jco /0 J". the same, and thy rears shaiknot faiL 

13 But to which of the angels said ho 
at any time, Sit/ on my right nxnd, until 
I make thine enemies thy footstool 

14 Are they not all ministering s. 
Pf/ // sent forth* to minister for them who 

be heirs' of salvation ? 

JLHEREFORE we ought to gi 
7)f L. /.; more earnest heed to the things which we 
><<y.*.6,/j>have heard, lest at any time we should 
/Mr. a /ft let them shpTT^' . . 7 . ?J " 
Sti.3. a 2 For if the word spoken ^y anpclsj 
was stedlast, and every transgression'* 
and disobedience received a just re^m- 
pence of reward ; / 

flic ?' j- 3 How shall we" escape, if w,r neglect 
' at >Ke first be- 
id was con- 

into us" By them that heard him; 
4 God also bearing them witness, both 
with signs and wonders, and with divers 
miracles, and M gifts of the Holy Ghost, 
/<?. /?.//. according to his own will ? 


/"*. <v.v> **ww 8i ill we~ cbL-ai)e, 

^./55 7 ^4BO great salvation; which* a 

(. I. J. Ran to be jpokcn by <,!) T^ord 

firmed unto tis'by them that 

A. D. 64. 

Tfu. 12.6,8. 
* De. 18. 15. 
cYs. 8.4, Ac. 
<(P. 2. 8. 
'John 1.3. 

little Jo 

. 5 For unto Ihe angels hath he not put 
in subjection the world to come, whereof 
we speak. 

6 But one in a certain place testified 
snving, What is man,' that thou art mind- 
ful of him ? or the son of man, that thou 
visitest him? 

7 Thou madest him Pa little lower/* 
than the angels ; thou crownedst him with 4 - 
plory and honour, and didst set him over 
the works of thy hands : 

8 Th-Ml hast put all things in subjection 
under his feet. F9r in thnt he put all in 
subjection under him, he left nothing that 
it not put under him. But now we' 
not yet all things put under Lim. ;.r^* 

But we see Jesus, who* was made 

lo a 

than the angels, Yfor the tsufc 
d* witli glory and<<l 
the grace of God 

.nvcr than the anj 

of death, crowned 
rSTtbat he* by ( 
I taste death for every man. 
t'-becamc him/ for w 

thingSy angs^y whom are all things, in/<; 
nging many sons unto glory, to makeJ- 

nntnin<" - - ._--. 

captain *\of ..their salvation 

.7 '/ 


fn /& 

e that sanctificth an 

who are sanctified, are all" of one: 

which cause he is uot ashamed to call-k&, 

them brethren \M*r. 3. 3f. <.//. / 

12 Saying, ! will declare thy MBM^b>.^ 
unto my breflifen ; in the midst of the - /:. 
Church will J_ sing praise unto lliee.ZeJ./Y 
MS And again, I will put my trustOn i/^.J 
' * nrBeholdl' and the/chil-^r^ 

himK And again. 

dren wtich God* hath given mc-^y 4. /4 

14 Forasmuch then as the children ar 
partakers bC flesh and blood./^ie' 
himself likcwfac took parT o 1 ho fame ; 
that through death* he nniglit dcsiroy 

him that had the power or death, that is,#e .'3> 
the devil -JS^.J. / 

15 And deliver them/who through fur* fa <9 
of death were all their lifetime subject \.o/6~,?/. 
bondage. Gt.Af. 7 / 

16 For verily ^ne took not on him the 
nature of angel*? but he took on him the 
seed of Abraham. tf&?. X 4 

17 Wherejore in all things it bchovedr7?6 
him to be/made like unto Aw bretlircr 

that he ,riight he a merciful * and faithfn 
high prj6st in things ~pe~rtaiiiing\v God, to/ 
make/reconciUation for the sins of 
peojne : //. If. 13 got. / ?/- 7? 

/ For in that he himself hath 
y ing tempted, he is able to 
that arc tempted. 


WHEREFORE, holy brethren, 
takers of the ' 
the Apostle 
fession, Christ Jos 

2 Who .was ^lithf 
pointed him, as also 
in all his house. A*. * 

3 For this man was count 
more glory than Moses, 

calling, consider//?-' 
lesf of our ~pfo~- 


Mar. 1 8th. Clearer views of Jesus. 

i Qth. Acceptance among poor. 

2oth. H converted, and O P conse- 

2ist. Irish Society success far beyond my asking. 

22nd. Study comforts. 

23rd. Grace not dependent on means. 

24th. Preservation from fire. 

., 25th. Pardon and victory. 

26th. Permitted to speak out to -, and setting 

Board School Bible reading afloat. 

27th. Instant guidance in sudden emergency. 

,, 28th. Preservation from a serious fall. 

29th. Faculties. 

,, 30th. A gospel sermon at church. 

3 1 st. Musical gifts. 

It is at our brother Frank's suggestion that the 
accompanying facsimiles have been taken from my 
sister's Bible. She had thus referenced two of 
Bagster's Bibles, the Old Testament, as well as the 
New, showing her diligent searchings. Truly, her 
delight was in the law of the Lord, it was always 
her standard of appeal ; and, by comparing Scrip- 
ture with Scripture, she grasped its all-sided truth, 
rejoicing therein as one that findeth great spoil. 
To her niece Cecilia she wrote : 

In reading the Scripture it is best to combine plans. 
Once a day read straight on, with prayer and careful 
referencing. But always try to give a half hour to Bible 


study ; work out Bible subjects, and make notes of 
them. I will give you two or three which I have found 

What does the Bible say God is { in Hl elf ? 

I to us? 

"Everlasting" Search out and classify the places 
where it is used. (This is very comforting, "everlasting 
covenant," " everlasting joy," etc.) 

" Called:' How is our "calling" described? Unto 
what are we " called " ? 

"Keep? Who will keep? Whom does He keep? 
From what does He keep ? 

"Able? See how applied to Christ; arrange in order. 

Keep a fine steel pen on purpose at hand, and mark the 
references you thus find in your own Bible, this will 
greatly enrich it. ... This plan is very helpful, 
both for intellectual and spiritual knowledge of His 

The other facsimile is taken from one of the fly 
leaves of my sister's Bible, and shows the way in 
which she constantly arranged Bible teachings. 

SUBJECTS FOR PRAYER. (Found in F. R. H?s Bible.} 

" I have greatly enjoyed the regular praying of the 
Lord's Prayer, and take a petition each morning in the 
week. Intercession for others I generally make at even- 
ing. I take the fruits of the Holy Spirit in the same way, 
and find this helpful." 

J>ff/rttfS't*\ . ./ /?. /> 

Ter, *>-,. Jv6 /<?. //. 
74/*r S . J~X,'r>~s.S. 3. 

. ' 3. JPr */<,.. Js. M . 7. 
e.4.*i\ _Pea ee . . & . 3? //. 
* - /. S Tru ft Jlgr. 33. 6>. 

L0 /u t>/ 
A 6i>u 


Jfc/* e . 



6'od can ma/te <./: 

"&.f.J.y frd* f*cffet,' egunt/**/fi 

.P74 . .r. -P. //>. <}. ,/j-. ?6. 4 . J'T ( f 6,. //. 

- .?/. 3 - -/v, //. ,W . 

- 6^. c?. /r. ^ J". .'/ /^7. // 

>. .'<-. >, 

J/./J . 

^^/ n'e sAtnttet c/o !<///, ctt oc<>- Aec.<- 

Jirve At. 3. 3?. Tiefrrri /a 6. 3S. 2?ra('j<i J> s . #6 # 
Ptfy 2)e.3V.?. Trust J> r . 3.J*. Jtej'et'ec Zc.3./L 

Pr. 3C.S. ./Va./.. 

'- 7. 

.'j. 4 . 771: 1.-/0. 

st P. 40. J 64. /#/ <?/. 4 
J/. J~ 3V. S. /?. Al :/?. ?/ 7 

. . .. 

P. /&. ?,- AT. ?3 ; Sfi. 3, 6/. 4 ; <? 

Ss. '?. ^. 

J5_/essr f r,t.<f ~?.34.<P ; 40. 4- .- 

" y. '?. Jt/c. /#. s. JCA. .r. so. is. ?/. 7. 

!s 4. S,<9. Jr. J< f /J. 7>f t .3. '<>& I/*.'- '1. 

/r.Q. tf-fa. 
./f.3P. J^'x 

f matn tfrr, / Jf. ? *f\ (*" ?' r 

^'.v./; p"ti- 

/r f .// /? .'%*' 
rft _Pr. //. ?fl. Scttt 

f,. te./9. ft/-,. 


,JX.3 c, 
' F<.s>.'/y 

So 6 13. 


rvrrs^ Pr /?. 8. 

V /,J/f tit*. / ?/. 

/if. 3 ./ 

^f d JT7A. 2. /. 

ffl. ? S- 
fy. f. 6. 

or T 






For the Holy Spirit. 

Perfect trust all day. 


To be kept from sin. 

That I may please Him. 

Guidance, growth in grace. 

That I may do His will. 

That He would use my 
mind, lips, pen, all. 

Blessing and guidance in 
each engagement and 
interview of the day. 


For forgiveness and cleans- 

Mistakes overruled. 
Blessing on all said, written, 

and done. 

For conformity to His will 
" and Christ's likeness. 
That His will may be done 

/// me. 

For a holy night. 
For every one for whom 

I have been specially 

asked to pray. 


That I may make the most of Sabbath hours, and gain 
much from the word. 

Deliverance from wandering thoughts. 

Pure praise. 

Blessing on services and choir. 

" Hallowed be Thy Name." 

Intercessions. (Initials of many clergymen, of her 
brother, her godchildren, and " our servants.") 

MONDAY. "For Joy and Peace" 
That the life of Jesus may be manifest in me. 

" Thy kingdom come." 
Intercession for Church Missionary Society and Irish 


Society. (Initials of her eldest sister, all her family, and 
" Oakhampton servants.") 

TUESDAY. "For Longsiiffering" 
That my unconscious influence may be all for Him. 

" Thy will be done." 

Intercession for Mildmay (and initials of her brother 
Henry's children and many Leamington friends). 

WEDNESDAY. " Gentleness" 
For spirit of prayer and shadowless communion. 

" Give us this day our daily bread." 
Intercession for the universities and public schools, 
for many friends, for M. V. G. H., and E. C. 

THURSDAY. " Goodness" 

For much fruit to His praise. Soul winning. Spirit 
of praise. 

" Forgive us our trespasses." 

Local work. Swansea, and Mrs. M . For my 

sister Ellen, all at Winterdyne, and " the servants." 

FRIDAY. Faith." 
Wisdom to be shown more of His will and commands. 

" Lead us not into temptation." 
For my brother and all at U. B. 

SATURDAY. " Meekness and Temperance" 
That the word of Christ may dwell in me richly, open 
treasures of Thy word to me, fill my seed basket. 

" Deliver us from evil." 
For the Church of England and the Queen. 
Initials of many friends. 


WORK FOR 1879: " If the Lord will." 
(In F. R. H:S Desk.) 

To write "Starlight through the Shadows," daily 
book for invalids. Six more Church Missionary Society 
papers. "Marching Orders." Set " Loyal Responses" to 
music. * Prepare " Kept " for press. To write " Lilies 
from the Waters of Quietness " (poem). "About Bible 
Reading and Bible Marking," magazine article. * " All 
Things;" work up my notes. "Particularly good to 
me," verses or short article. "The Stray Kitten," juvenile 
paper. Work up C. S. S. M. anecdotes into papers or 
book. * Complete twelve " Wayside Chimes " for Home 
Words. * Select or write "Echoes from the Word" 
for Day of Days. * Double sets of Ne\v Year's 
mottoes (Caswell). " Bright Thoughts for Dark Days." 
Series of Irish Sketches for Day of Days. On " Sunday 
Postal Burdens"; how to relieve the postmen. "Our 
Brother"; or daily thoughts for those who love Him. 
* " Morning Stars," daily thoughts about Jesus for 
little ones. " Evening Stars," or promises for the 
little ones. Complete the series of " Sunday Morn- 
ing Crumbs." Six poems for Sunday Magazine. 

[The daily pressure of letters prevented many of these being at- 
tempted ; * denotes those completed.] 

January 28th she went to London, visiting Mr. 
and Mrs. Watson and the Rev. C. Bullock. Other 
visits were purposed, but singularly frustrated by 
the appearance of infectious illness in her dear 
friend's (Mrs. Bullock's) family, and she thought it 


right to return speedily to Wales. The day she 
went to town I read (at prayers) the Christian 
Progress chapter for the day, Deuteronomy xxxiii. 
1-17. Afterwards Frances said : " I wondered if 
you would read the eighteenth verse. It is a fresh 
promise for me. You say I belong to the tribe 
of Zebulun, ' them that handle the pen/ and early 
this morning I read ' rejoice Zebulun in thy going 
out,' and so I do in going to London. I never 
went a journey I feel so delighted about. I 
gave up the thought of going, last week, for 
I wanted to make the most of my time and 
money for my King, and didn't want to please 
myself a bit. Then, after prayer about it, that 
promise seemed to direct my going, ' Certainly I 
will be with thee/ and I have had no misgiving 

On her return from London her work seemed 
to increase ; letters poured in ; many came for 
advice or instruction, and she gave up every 
available moment. I distinctly remember the 
gladness of her service, delighting to do whatever 
seemed the will of the Lord. One morning she 
said to me : " Marie, it is really very remarkable 
how everything I do seems to prosper and flourish. 
There is my ' Bruey Branch ' growing and increas- 
ing, and now the Temperance work. And so 
many letters tell me that God is blessing my little 


books. I thought this morning why it was so ; 
in the first Psalm we have the condition and the 
promise : 'his delight is in the law of the Lord ; 
. . . and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.' 
You know how I do love my Bible, more and more ; 
and so, of course, the promise comes true to me." 

To our Vicar and other friends she sent this 
simple request for prayer, asking them ,to sign 
their own names and secure others to join : 

" I agree to pray every evening for three months 
from this date, (God helping me,) for the outpouring 
of His Holy Spirit upon this parish and neighbour- 
hood." F. R. H., March 7, 1879. 

It was as answer to this prayer that my sister 
attributed the awakening interest which much en- 
couraged her in daily conversations in the cottages 
around us. 

In the village school her frequent visits and 
bright words won the deepest love. To encourage 
them to learn God's word perfectly, she offered a 
new Bible to every child who would repeat the 
53rd chapter of Isaiah. Good Friday was the day 
fixed, but she was ill then. A few days after, she 
was delighted with the perfect repetition by many 
of the children ; and, though she would not excuse 
a single mistake, she gave some another trial. I 
was often struck with the pains she took with 

284 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

very little children, so really making the gospel 
story glad news to them. 

Once she went rather unwillingly to return a 
stranger's call. She afterwards told me she was 
quite ashamed of her reluctance (though it arose 
from weariness), for she had "found such direct 
work," adding : " I must screw up to a notch 
higher, and improve all conversations. Certainly 
my King is very good, to give me such nice little 
bits of work for Him." 

In the early part of March, Frances re-wrote and 
completed her last book, "Kept." She told me 
she could work but slowly and with some difficulty, 
owing to pressure of other things. Again and 
again, she said how strongly she felt that her pen 
was to be used only for the Master, and how she 
had found His blessing in that course hitherto. 
My sister had also begun a series of papers for 
invalids ; but it seemed strongly impressed on her 
that the children should have a turn, and so she 
rapidly wrote " Morning Stars." 

She was interested in looking over some musical 
settings to her words by Mr. Purday, an old corre- 
spondent of our father's. She approved of the title, 
" Songs of Peace and Joy" ; and against some of 
his tunes wrote " very sweet," " very good," " fair, 
third strain interesting," etc. 


My dear sister was delighted that Messrs. 
Hutchings and Romer accepted for publication 
her music to Mr. Prout's words " Loving all 

(To S. G.P.) 

. . . About your " Loving all Along." I wrote the 
music to suit myself, and I never yet found words 
which were so exactly what I wanted. I hope to sing it 
in many drawing-rooms, it is delightful to do the King's 
business there, and singing often opens the door for quiet 
conversations. I do so pray the words may touch some 
weary hearts under silks and satins, and dress-coats too, 
may-be. . . . 

All the same, I do not think the song will ever be 
popular, because it is just one of those which are utterly 
ruined if stumbled over, or even if well played by one 
who does not dash off the recitative-like style with real 
spirit, and bring out the sharp contrasts which give 

. . . Seriously, dear friend, the points have been 
carried one after another ; Hutchings and Romer accept- 
ing it, Sankey saying it haunts him, and taking it to 
America \ now two prayers, that God will make it accept- 
able, and most of all that He will let it do real work and 
send the great power of His Spirit with it. 

P.S. The best last ! converted by " N. S. D." 

He was slightly ill ; I called, talked, and prayed .twice 
or three times, and gave him " Never Say Die." And 
that was blessed ! Now give thanks ! 


THE MUMBLES, March 25, 1879. 


. . . I am being answered about my " Bruey 
Branch " to an extent that literally alarms me ! I don't 
know how I can keep pace with the influx of young 
collectors, and the Dublin secretaries are "astonished." 
I sent up .108 a few days ago, and that is only what 
comes to me ; Mr. Roe tells me hundreds of " Bruey " 
cards are being taken all over the kingdom, and I see 
the whole thing will want complete organizing. I myself 
have sent up, including Miss E. Titterton's, no less than 
seventy-nine collectors' lists and amounts, and I begun 
two years ago with a list of eight collectors, consequently 
I am believing in prayer a little more than ever ! 

THE MUMBLES, March 28. 

Is the Green Isle big enough to hold you and me at 
the same time, do you think ? Because, if it is, I am 
thinking, please God, of coming over about the begin- 
ning of June. The real reason why I have made up my 
mind to brave the terrors of the deep, i.e. of the ladies' 
cabin, is that things are growing so marvellously fast in 
my department of the Irish Society work, that I must go 
and see for myself what is being done in the fields of work, 
and also have a regular consultation at head quarters 
about organizing the " Bruey Branch, " which is sprout- 
ing like anything in all directions. And now the thing 
is, I want one of you to come with me, (of course at my 
expense,) on a sort of tour round some of the Irish 
stations. I think it will be delightful. The fun would 


be to have you both ; but that might complicate matters 
as to accommodation in some of these " backwoods,' 7 so 
how would it be if one of you came, for the first week 
or two, and then change over ? I thought it would be 
such a very nice opportunity for you to see something 
of the land of your birth beyond the civilization of 
college and the metropolis ! Think it over and pray 
over it, and let me know what conclusion you come to. 
If one of you could come, you would probably be a great 
comfort, as you would see to such matters as hiring cars 
for me and other small services. It is not only that I 
really want to see the work for myself, as I am getting 
jnore and more deeply pledged to it, but we have got 
Mr. Bullock to make the Day of Days a sort of quasi 
Irish Society organ, he having put two pages of the 
magazine at our disposal every month, instead of our 
going to the expense of setting up a separate magazine 
for the Society's information. This was my scheme, and 
we are starting pretty well ; but they want me extremely 
to write some papers for it, and I tell them I can't make 
brick without straw, and therefore if I am to write I 
must go to Ireland. Let me know as soon as you can 
when your term ends, and you would be at liberty. Mr. 
Fitzpatrick is very anxious to make part of his inspecting 
tour fit in with mine, so as to show me that part of the 
work, which of course would be a great advantage to 
my papers ; but I tell him that I wish, also, to see some 
of the undress as well as the full parade, so he is to be 
with us part of the time, and I am to visit some stations 
by myself. I have stipulated that I only go to observe 
and take notes, not to take classes or give addresses, 
as I have not strength for that; and, to keep myself 


fresh for the writing, which I want to do as much as 
possible on the spot, is far more important. 

Your loving Aunt. 

The following letter refers to the action taken 
by her on the Total Abstinence question. 

(To Eustace Haver gal.') 

April 12, 1879. 

. . . As to actual signing I only deferred that, that 
I might use the act at good interest, which I did by 
getting six persons to sign with me. ... I have found 
by experience, as thousands of other Christian workers 
are finding, that this "outward and visible sign" is just 
the needed means to prevent the beginnings of that terri- 
ble evil. See now, I have here eight growing lads, be 
several others, all in surroundings of more or less temp 
ation, who have signed my book and are thus helped to 
say no ; and, instead of swimming with the stream, not 
one has been into a public house since, trying their best 
to get others to abstain also. ... I could not feel 
impatient at your not seeing it yet, because four or five 
years ago I felt exactly as you do ; but, hearing so much 
of the great work done by this means, I set myself to pray 
for clear light and guidance about it, asking that I might 
be able to lay aside prejudice on the one hand, and that 
I might be kept from going without God's leading on the 
other. From that time, conviction gradually dawned and 
deepened in my mind that I could not hold aloof from a 
movement on which God has set so very evident a seal 
af blessing. . . 


Endorsed on a pamphlet dealing with the Total 
Abstinence question, enclosed in the same letter, is 
the following. 

I have gone in altogether for it now, and find it gives 
me opportunities at once which I had not before. 

May i, 1879. 

. . . I haven't taken up teetotal work, but teetotal 
work has taken up me ! Morgan and Scott made me 
accept a big, handsome, pledge book in February, and 
somehow the thing has fairly caught fire here. One led 
to another, and yesterday boys were coming all day to 
sign ! I had twenty-five recruits yesterday alone, and a 
whole squad more are coming this evening ! and we are 
going in for getting EVERY boy in the whole village ! 
And now, "Please, miss, mayn't the girls sign?" So 
I've got to open a girls' branch as well ! So work grows ! 

I adopt the title of " The Newton Temperance Regi- 
ment," to please my boys, who are a strong majority in 
it, and very hearty about it. I do love these little lads. 

Our dear and faithful friend, Elizabeth Clay, was 
with us at Easter. Frances was deeply interested 
in the details of her Indian journeys and Zenana 
work, and consulted with her as to the possibility 
of eventually going to India herself, that she might 
be able to write for her King in Oriental lan- 
guages. Frances was not at all well, and a fever- 
ish cold prevented her from singing when Mr. and 
Mrs. Sankey paid us a pleasant visit. To them she 


290 MEMORIALS OF F. R* //. 

spoke much of the bright City, and that music 
which alone could satisfy her intense craving. 

Almost the last time we walked to church to- 
gether, she turned round to me and said : " Marie, 
I Ve come to the conclusion it will be very nice 
to go to heaven ! The perfect harmony, the per- 
fect praise, no jarring tunes. You don't know the 
intense enjoyment it is to me to sing in part music. 
I don't think I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus 
and not sing it ; but there ! " 

Another Sunday evening, not being able to go to 
church, she called Mary to read with her. Search- 
ing into the meaning of those words (John viii. 51), 
" If a man keep My saying he shall never see 
death," her conclusion was, " so, when we come to 
die, our eyes will so really see Jesus Himself 'that 
we shall not see death." Thus it was to her : 

" Death is a hushed and glorious tryst, 
With Thee, my King, my Saviour Christ ! " 

Truly, her loyal life shone brightly, day by day. 
Her appeals stirred many a one to choose the 
King's service. I think it was in April she took 
(once only) the Young Women's Christian Asso- 
ciation meeting in Swansea for her friend, Mrs. 
Morgan. They well remember how she played 
and sang with them, "Precious Saviour, may I 
live, only for Thee ! " (to her tune " Onesimus.") 


At the close of her address she took round to 
each a copy of 

" Take my life, and let it be 
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee," 

with a blank space, where each might sign her 
name who could do so, in true and loyal allegiance. 
My dear sister always went to such meetings, in 
the truest humility of spirit. She often said, " I 
can only ask the Lord to give me words ; I am 
only learning, myself, day by day " ; but a real 
power seemed to rest on all her words, and espe- 
cially during the last years. 

Our friend the Baroness Plelga von Cramm 
joined us in May. She thought dear Frances 
looking well and young and bright. We had some 
pleasant seaside walks ; and Frances sat by her 
friend, on the sands, when she sketched the 
" Mumbles Lighthouse." Many kind friends near 
us, and their children and servants, wondered at the 
sweetness and power with which my sister spoke 
to them for and of her Lord and Kinsr. 

(To Mrs. //.) 

May 5, 1879. 

Thank God for her ! and thank God that you are able 
to thank Him. I never read anything sweeter than 
Nony's welcome to her Lord's coming for her. I have 
ventured to keep a copy of your beautiful letter to . 


Would you let me make some extract from it in my nc::t 
circulars ? I should so like to tell my dear little collectors 
about Nony, whose name will be highest on the list in 
the next report. I feel it such a privilege to have been 
permitted to number this little saint of God among 
my little band of collectors. One from the seniors 
(E. R. N.)* and one from the juniors are " safe home" 
now, and both such abundant entrances. How beautiful 
Nony must be now ! 

Yours, in most loving sympathy. 

(To the same.) 

May 20. 

. On further consideration and prayer, I see 
that I cannot write Nony's memoir, at least not unless 
the autumn shapes itself quite differently from what God 
is at present indicating. After Christmas, I may be free 
to decide on fresh work, and then I might try and do my 
best. But I think you would not like to postpone the 
memoir so long. . . . t 


May 17, 1879. 

I cannot forbear just a line of affectionate sympathy 
in reply to your note. And I do so rejoice with you in 
the brighter parts of it. 

I begin my Irish campaign, please God, on June 4th ; 

* E. R. Nicholas, Esq., long revered in EcwJlcy, ulio died 
April 30, 1879, the day before little Nony. 

t This memoir of her little friend is now published by Messrs, 
Nisl>ct & Co., "The Memorials of Little Nony." 


I stay first with the good Bishop of Cashel. Really a 
wonderful little Temperance work here; all the rising 
generation have joined the pledge except about twelve, 
and now the men want to speak to me, and I am to 
meet them to-night at the corner of the village (open air, 
having no place else) with my pledge book. I have got 
118 pledged, and each with prayer over it, and personal 
talk about better things. In haste, etc., etc. 

(To Mrs. Charles Bullock.} 

. . . I do not want to work out a text this morn- 
ing because I want to give the same time to working a 
few, in the chapter for to-day, with the Baroness. But I 
choose for next Sunday (May 18) i Kings v. 17 : " The 
King" "commanded" "great stones" "costly stones" 
"hewed stones" "foundation of the house" Those six 
points will bear a lot of referencing; the point that 
struck me being that all these great, costly, and hewed 
stones were to be laid out of sight, yet making the strong 
and needed foundation for a beautiful superstructure. 
Do you see my thought ? 

This letter leads to the remark that for many 
months my dear sister had selected texts on 
some verse in the Christian Progress chapter for 
Sunday mornings. She sent them on postcards to 
her friend Mrs. Bullock on the previous Fridays, 
calling them " Sunday Morning Crumbs." We 
give only two others, for her friend will publish 
them with the title of " My Bible Study." 


Zech. vi. 1 1 : " Make crowns, and set them on the 
head of Joshua the high priest." Rev. xix. 12 :" Many 
crowns." Is it not our privilege to have something to 
do with preparing the crowns, and the jewels in them ? 
You see it is "make," not merely "take." Meanwhile 
"we see" Him already "crowned with glory and honour" 
(Heb. ii. 9). Outsiders don't see it at all, and many of 
us don't " see " because we don't steadily " look." I 
suppose it is the coronation day of Jesus in our hearts 
when we "take" all that is most precious to us, typified 
by the silver and gold, and " make crowns " with it for 
Him in the double aspect of High Priest, i.e. Atoncr 
and Mediator, and Joshua our accepted and recognised 
" Leader and Commander." 

May 23, 1879. 

For May 25: i Kings xii. 24, "This thing is from 
Me " (railway to ver. 15). If anything wasn't from the 
Lord, one would have thought Rehoboam's infatuation 
was that thing ! So, it seems a lesson of acquiescence in 
those most difficult things to acquiesce in, i.e. what seem to 
arise from man's (or lad's) foolishness and tryingness. See 
2 Cor. v. 1 8, "all things "; and 2 Cor. iv. 15. Compare 
Gen. xlv. 8, and 1. 20. . . . So thankful for the good 
news in your note, as to both your sister and your friend. 
Thanks for your dear husband's. Very kind to register it ! 


The donkey-boy My Temperance regiment Work on the 
village Lank Sailor friends Helga's pictures " God's will 
delicious" Good Mary and kind nurse "How good and 
kind to come ! " The last Sunday The last hymns 
Last messages "Do speak bright words for Jesus" The 
last song at the Golden Gate With the King Astley 

MY dear sister Frances had promised to meet 
some men and boys on the village bank 
on May 2 1st. Though the day was very damp, 
she went, taking her Bible and her Temperance 
book with her. While standing a long time on 
this cold spot, heavy clouds came up from the 
Channel, and she returned, wet and chilly with the 
rain and mist ; even then some were waiting for her 
to speak to them. 

May 22nd, being Ascension Day, she wished to 
go to church with our friend, but looked so poorly 
that I urged her to come for the Communion 
only. She was very tired, and took a donkey 
home. As she passed through our village of 
Newton, quite a procession gathered round her, her 
regiment of boys eagerly listening. Her donkey 


boy, Fred Rosser, remembers that Miss Frances 
told him " I had better leave the devil's side and 
get on the safe side ; that Jesus Christ's was the 
winning side ; that He loved us and was calling 
us, and wouldn't I choose Him for my Captain ? " 
Arriving at home, Frances ran in for her book, 
and on the saddle Fred signed the pledge. A 
young sailor, W. Llewellyn, was going to sea the 
next day. Frances was anxious to speak to him, 
and in the evening went to the cottage. He signed 
the book and heard one of her closing messages ;* 
and this was the last time her feet were 

" Swift and beautiful for Thee." 

That evening she spoke to several ; her intense 
earnestness, her pleading words in the kitchen, are 
not forgotten. To our worthy landlord, his wife 
and boys, she spoke loving words. David and 
Johnnie Tucker will not forget how often she 
had them in her study. 

May 2$rd. The chilliness increased ; and though 
she was in her study as usual, I requested the 
doctor to see my dear sister, and desired him to 
come again. The Temperance meeting was to be 
held in the evening, and my sister arranged 150 
large Temperance cards, then to be given. Very 

* His last letter, from Brazil, states that he has faithfully kept 
the pledge. 


cheerfully she gave up the wish to go, saying 
(so like her!) "You will do all so much better than 
I can ; will you giv-2 them two messages from me : 
to those who have signed, ' Behold God Himself is 
. . . our Captain' (2 Chron. xiii. 12) ; to those 
who have not signed, ' Come thou with us, and we 
will do thee good ' (Num. x. 29)." Our Vicar and 
Mr. Bishop, from Swansea, were to be present ; 
and to them she sent her good wishes and request 
for bright short addresses. While we were at the 
meeting, she was stitching strong paper tract-bags 
for sailors at sea, till she felt ill and Mary assisted 
her into her room. A feverish night ensued. 

Saturday^ 2^tJi. Our friend, the Baroness, left 
us ; but she was not uneasy about Frances. In the 
afternoon my sister asked me to rearrange her 
pictures near her bed. " Put Mary Fay's text 
next to me, 'Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to- 
day, and for ever"; above that, ' Sunrise from the 
Bel Alp,' and ' The Glacier of La Tour.' " I read 
to her the text painted by Helga, on the rock : " I 
saw a sea of glass, clear as crystal." Frances said, 
" Strangely sweet ! tell Helga her pictures take my 
thoughts away from the pain, up there." Then 
Frances asked me to place " my own text," " the 
blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth from all 
sin"; and beyond it Emily Coombe's illumination, 
" I reckon that the sufferings," etc. 


The following are her last notes, in pencil. 

(To Miss E. Tittcrton.} 

May 28, 1879. 

I am laid up again with a return of these feverish 
attacks, which the doctor says are really from debility ; 
so must only send love, and assure you that whatever is 
the reason of no answer, it can't possibly be that Mrs. P. 
is " offended " that 's not the last possibility, but an 
////possibility ! It may be that she does not see her way 
and is in a fix what to say ; this is highly probable, as 
the Mildmay institutions are, financially, at a low ebb, 
and of course she must throw all available strength 
into this. I have got the whole rising generation of the 
village to sign the pledge (all between eight and sixteen), 
except two boys who won't sign, three who broke, and 
one girl " going to sign " ! Also about fifty gro\vn-ups. 
My little lads are splendid : such hearty enthusiasm 
about it ! Temperance meeting to-night, at which I was 
popularly supposed to be going to speak ! but I have to 
entrust it all to others under God. I dare not let the 
fact transpire that I can't go. They are such affectionate 
people, these poor Welsh. 

If I am able to go to Ireland (June 4), I will explain 
to Mr. Fitzpatrick about pence cards for you and the 
Lruey Branch. . . . 


I am in bed again with another of these tryingly fre- 
quent feverish attacks, and am writing on the back of 
your own letter, not having other paper within reach ! 


The fact is, I have knocked myself up with this Tem- 
perance work ; but having got the whole rising generation 
of the village into my Temperance regiment, except 
four naughty little black sheep, seems to me quite worth 
being knocked up for ! 

I am sorry I demurred to Dr. B.'s book appearing in 
my special livery ; it was rather small of me, and I feel 
small accordingly. I forgot to say that the subject is 
one of my unfinished " invalid book " papers, but I don't 
think I need sacrifice it, need I ? I could put a footnote, 
something of this sort "For fuller and far better 
thoughts on this passage, my readers are referred to the 
' Brook Besor,' by Andrew A. Bonar, D.D.," etc. 

I have had such a kind letter from Dr. Macduff, send- 
ing me " Palms of Elim." I like it best of his, since 
the "Faithful Promiser." 

Maria says I must not write any more. 

% Yours ever, 

F. R. H. 

Of Sunday I have kept no account. 

May 26th. She could not attend to her letters, 
but corrected the proof of "Morning Stars," on 
the text "I am the bright and morning Star"; and 
then the pen so long used in the service of her King 
was laid down. She was not suffering very much, 
lying quietly in bed, her pet kittens Trot and Dot 
on her duvet. She rather astonished her doctor 
by saying, " Do you think I've a chance of going ?" 
He told her that she was not seriously ill ; and 
asked if she really liked lying there, and in pain. 


Frances. " Yes, I do ; it is as if an errand-boy 
were told to take a message, and afterwards the 
master bids him not to go. I was going to Ireland 
next week, hoping to write for the Irish Society, 
but God has upset all my plans, and it 's all right." 

The last passage she looked at in her Bible was 
the Christian Progress chapter for May 28th (Rev. 
ii. i-io). She asked Mary to read it for her, 
dwelling on " Be thou faithful unto death, and I 
will give thee a crown of life," bidding her turn 
to the reference in James i. 12. 

(It is remarkable that the same promise of 
" the crown of life " was the last passage our dear 
father ever read.) 

May 2gth. Fever and internal inflammation 
rapidly came on, and all the symptoms and agony 
of peritonitis. God seemed to permit severest 
suffering, and all remedies failed. But her peace 
and joy shone through it all, while her patience and 
unselfish consideration for others were most striking, 
arranging that all who nursed her should rest also. 
When we were distressed for her, she whispered, 
" It's home the faster ! " She told Mary she was 
quite sure now she should never go to Ireland, 
adding, "God's will is delicious; He makes no 
mistakes." Our good Mary was a great comfort at 
all times. 

May 30/7*. She was speaking of justification by 


faith : " Not for our own works or descrvings ; oh, 
what vanity it seems now to rest on our own 
obedience for salvation, any merit of our own 
takes away the glory of the atoning blood. ' Unto 
Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins 
in His own blood,' that 's it" 

M. " Have you any fear ? " 

F. "Why should I ? Jesus said ' It is finished/ 
and what was His precious blood shed for? I trust 

Another time : " I am sure ' I am not worthy to 
be called His son/ or His servant, but Jesus covers 
all ; I am unworthy, but in Him complete." 

The last letter she could listen to was from 
my brother Frank's twin sons, and her message 
was : " Thank Willie for that nice text, ' Sorrow 
may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the 
morning'; and I do hope that Willie and Ethelbert 
will be ambassadors for Christ ; even if they are 
not clergymen, may they win souls." 

To her sister Ellen : " I have not strength to 
send messages to yours. I should have liked my 
death to be like Samson's, doing more for God's 
glory than by my life ; but He wills it otherwise." 

Ellen. " St. Paul said ' The will of the Lord be 
done/ and 'let Christ be magnified, whether by my 
life or by my death.' " 

I think it was then my beloved sister whispered : 


"Let my own text, 'the blood of Jesus Christ, His 
Son, cleanseth us from all sin " be on my tomb ; 
all the verse, if there is room." 

I must mention the skilful' and tender care of the 
nurse, Sarah Carveley (from the Derby Institute). 
A year before, when in perfect health, Frances had 
playfully said, " You must come and nurse me." 

The constant sickness was very distressing, and 
nothing alleviated the agonizing pain ; but my 
sister's patient endurance was most lovely, trying 
to comfort us, and thanking us so sweetly for all 
we did. 

Another time she said : " Marie dear, God is 
dealing differently with me in this illness ; I don't 
know what He means by it ; no new thoughts for 
books or poems come now." 

Then, "Will you ask the Lord Jesus it may not 
be long before He speaks to me Himself some 
little love token." I knelt and asked that He 
would speak "peace" to her, even as He did to His 

F. " I have peace, but it's Himself I am longing 

M. " The little boats on the stormy sea had not 
to row back to Jesus ; He drew nigh to them, and 
said, ' It is I, be not afraid.' " 

Saturday afternoon she was very ill and feverish, 
saying, " I know now what it means, ' my tongue 


cleaveth to my gums.' " When fanning her she 
said, " Marie, you have made this last year of my 
life the brightest." 

M. " Do you at all regret coming here ? " 

F. "I should think not ; the pleasantest time I 
ever had, delicious ! " 

Whit Sunday she felt better and was able to 
talk a little to her brother and sisters, saying : 
" How good and kind to come ! Frank, do you 
remember when we knelt together at dear papa's 
dying bed, what you said to me ? It so comforted 
me. Ever since I trusted Jesus altogether, I have 
been so happy. I cannot tell how lovely, how 
precious, He is to me." 

Her doctors were most watchful, and Frances 
expressed her confidence in them and declined 
further advice. She asked them, " What is the 
element of danger ? " 

" You are seriously ill, and the inflammation is 

F. " I thought so, but if I am going it is too 
good to be true ! " 

In the early dawn of Whit Monday Frances said 
to me: "'Spite of the breakers, Marie, I am so 
happy ; God's promises are so true. Not a fear." 

About 8 a.m. we thought she was departing, 
and asked for her brother. He knelt by her, in- 
quiring if he should pray. " Yes ; let it be a 


sacramental service." She softly but emphatically 
joined in the words, "Therefore with angels," etc. 
Reverently, she asked her brother to say the (ad- 
ministration) words " once for all." 

After some peaceful rest, she whispered : " Frank 
dear, it is not the performance of the rite, no safety 
in tJiat\ but it is obedience to His command and 
as a remembrance of His dying love "; to which 
he assented. 

When one of her doctors was leaving he said, 
" Good-bye, I shall not see you again." 

F. " Then do you really think I am going ? " 

Dr. "Yes." 

F. "To-day?" 

Dr. "Probably." 

F. " Beautiful, too good to be true ! " 

Soon after she looked up smiling. " Splendid 
to be so near the gates of heaven ! " (Again and 
again we heard this, and " So beautiful to go ! " 
through the last hours.) 

To Frank : " Will you sing 'Jerusalem, my happy 
home,' to papa's tune ' St. Chrysostom,'* and play 
it on my harp-piano. Sing from the copy that has 

* Jesus my Saviour dwells therein, 

In glorious majesty; 
And Him through every stormy scene 
I onward press to see ! ' 

* No. 53, "Ilavcrgal's Psalmody." 


Oh, it is the Lord Jesus that is so dear to me, I 
can't tell how precious ! how much He has been 
to me ! " 

Afterwards she asked for " How sweet the name 
of Jesus sounds," to the same tune. 

The Vicar of Swansea came for a few minutes. 
He said : " You have talked and written a great 
deal about the King ; and you will soon see Him 
in His beauty. Is Jesus with you now ? " 

F. "Of course! It's splendid! I thought He 
would have left me here a long while ; but He is so 
good to take me now. Give my love to dear Mrs. 
Morgan, and tell all the Association (Y. W. C. A.) 
that what she and I have told them is all. 
right, God's promises are all true, and the Lord 
Jesus is a good big foundation to rest upon. Ask 

Mr. A to speak plainly about Jesus. I want 

all young clergymen to be faithful ambassadors, 

and win souls. Tell Mr. W I can never thank 

him enough for his help. Oh, I want all of you 
to speak bright, BRIGHT, words about Jesus, oh, 
do, do! It is all perfect peace, I am only 
waiting for Jesus to take me in." 

Soon after her friend Mrs. Morgan came, and 
Frances whispered : " There is no bottom to God's 
mercy and love ; all His promises are true, not one 
thing hath failed." 

In the afternoon, she asked us if it was wrong 



to groan when in such pain. We told her how 
very, very patient she had been ; that even her 
doctors had noticed it, and her calmness. 

F. " Oh, I am so glad you tell me this. I did 
want to glorify Him, every step of the way, and 
especially in this suffering. I hope none of you 
will have five minutes of this pain." 

Her brother sang " Christ for me " ; and Ellen 

" On Christ the solid Rock I stand, 
All other ground is sinking sand " ; 

adding " I want to rejoice more for you, dear 
Frances ; you are on the Rock, and we want no 

F. " It is the one God has laid for us." 

Many times she whispered : " Come, Lord Jesus, 
come and fetch me ; oh, run, run." Then, " Do 
you think I shall be disappointed ? " 

" No, dearest, we are quite sure you are going to 
Him now." 

F.) smiling, " I think Jesus will be glad." 

On Tuesday, June 3rd, Whit Tuesday, at dawn 
the change came. One of her sisters repeated, 
" When thou passest through the waters I will be 
with thee." 

F. "He must keep His word." 

Isaiah xli. 10 was repeated incorrectly ; she 


whispered it correctly for us. After a short doze, 
she exclaimed : " I am lost in amazement ! There 
hath not failed one word of all His good 
promise ! " 

She just spoke of Miss Leigh's work in Paris, 
and her friend Margaret C. there, adding " Strange 
I think of it now." 

Whispering the names of many dear ones, she 
added " I love them all." Then, as it were with her 
last look on them from the opening golden gates, 
she said yearningly " I want all to come to me in 
heaven ; oh, don't, don't disappoint me, tell them 
' Trust Jesus.' " 

Ellen repeated : (altering the word " canst ") 

"Jesus, I will trust Thee, 

Trust Thee with my soul ; 
Guilty, lost, and helpless, 

Thou hast made me whole : 
There is none in heaven, 

Or on earth, like Thee ; 
Thou hast died for sinners, 

Therefore Lord for me." 

Clearly, though faintly, she sang the whole verse, 
to her own tune " Hermas." 

Then came a terrible rush of convulsive sickness. 
It ceased ; the nurse gently assisting her, she 
nestled down in the pillows, folded her hands on 


her breast, saying, " There, now it is all over ! 
Blessed rest ! ' 

And now she looked up steadfastly as if she 
saw the Lord ; and, surely, nothing less heavenly 
could have reflected such a glorious radiance upon 
her face. For ten minutes, we watched that almost 
visible meeting with her King, and her counte- 
nance was so glad, as if she were already talking 
to Him. Then she tried to sing ; but after one 

sweet high note, "HE ," her voice failed ; 

and, as her brother commended her soul into her 
Redeemer's hand, she passed away. Our precious 
sister was gone, satisfied, glorified, within the 
palace of her King ! 

. . . " So she took . . . 
The one grand step, beyond the stars of God, 
Into the splendour, shadowless and broad, 
Into the everlasting joy and light. 
The zenith of the earthly life was come. 

What then ? Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard ! 
Wait till thou too hast fought the noble strife, 
And won, through Jesus Christ, the crown of life ! 
Then shalt thou know the glory of the word, 
Tlien as the stars for ever, ever shine, 
Beneath the King's own smile, perpetual zenith thine ! " 






On Monday, June 9th, at 6 a.m., the villagers 
and others assembled on the lawn while her 
flower-crowned coffin passed out. The Rev. S. C. 
Morgan, Vicar of Swansea, addressed them after 
we had left for Worcestershire. 

Many relatives and friends joined us at Stour- 
port, following our beloved sister to her father's 
tomb in Astley churchyard. A golden star, of 
Banksia roses, a poet's wreath of laurel and bay, 
and many white crowns, were laid upon her. 
There, within sight of her birth-room in the 
rectory, and under the branches of the fir-tree her 
father planted, (and, away beyond, the hills and 
valleys of her childhood's haunts encircling us,) we 
laid our dear sister in sure and certain hope of her 
" resurrection to eternal life." 

The following is the inscription, on the north 
side of our dear father's tomb, in Astley church- 
yard : 



Born at Astley Rectory, I4tli December, 1836. Died :it Casvvell 
Bay, Swansea, 3rd June, 1879. Aged 42. 

By her writings in prose and verse, she, "being dead yet speakcth. " 

" The blood of Jesus Christ, If is Son, clcansdh us from all si/i." 
i JOHN i. 7. 

310 MEMORIALS OF F. R. rt. 

There had been heavy storms all day, even as 
she had passed through many (and our own storm- 
grief had been bitter and desolating). But the 
sunshine came, just as the service was ending, and 
the birds suddenly sang sweetly all around. Very 
hushing was the thought that our dear sister's life 
had been the prelude of the everlasting song ; 
and that she was then looking upon the face of 
her King, and praising Him ''evermore, and ever- 

" Worthy of all adoration 

Is the Lamb that once was slain," 
Cry, in raptured exultation, 
His redeemed from every nation ; 
Angel myriads join the strain ; 

Sounding from their sinless strings 
Glory to the King of kings ; 
Harping, with their harps of gold, 
Praise which never can be told. 

Hallelujahs full and swelling 

Rise around His throne of might. 
All our highest laud excelling, 
Holy and Immortal, dwelling 
In the unapproached light, 
He is worthy to receive 
All that heaven and earth can give. 
Blessing, honour, glory, might, 
All are His by glorious right. 


As the sound of many waters 

Let the full Amen arise ! 
HALLELUJAH ! Ceasing never, 
Sounding through the great For Ever, 
Linking all its harmonies ; 
Through eternities of bliss, 
Lord, our rapture shall be this ; 
And our endless life shall be 
One AMEN of praise to THEE ! 

(F. R. II.) 

" Unto Him that loved us and washed us from 
our sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings 
and priests unto God and His Father ; to HIM be 
glory and dominion, for ever and ever. Amen." 


" I will trust in Thee." Ps. Iv. 23. 

JEGUS, I will trust Thee, tntst Thee with my soul ; 
Guilty, lost, and helpless, Thou canst make me whole. 
There is none in heaven or on earth like Thee : 
Thou hast died for sinners therefore, Lord, for me. 

Jesus, I may trust Thee, name of matchless worth, 
Spoken by the angel at Thy wondrous birth ; 
Written, and for ever, on Thy cross of shame, 
Sinners read and worship, trusting in that name. 

I must trust Thee, pondering Thy wcyi, 
Full of love and mercy, all Thy earthly days : 
Sinners gathered round Thee, lepers sought Thy face ; 
None too vile or loathsome for a Saviour's grace. 

Jesus, I can trust Thee, trust Thy written word, 
Though Thy voice of pity I have never h/ard. 
When Thy Spirit teacheth, to my taste how sweet 
Only may I hearken, sitting at Thy feet. 

Jesus, I dc trust Thee, trust without a doubt : 
"Whosoever cometh, Thou wilt not cast out." 
Faithful is Thy promise, precious is Thy blood 
These my soul's salvation, Thou my Saviour God ! 


Tune, HERMAS; No. 105, in "Havergal's Psalmody." 

-0-S-* ! S I ' , r \ fc ! ,_, 


== - = 

* P= , 


Je - sus, I will trust Thee, trust Thee with my soul ; 

P r r T=M-r- -^-I-p--J--S js^-^^ I 
_J_^_^_A ^ -J- _J -_-f^_J_ J 

i i i t* ' ' 

Guilt - y, los', and help - less, Thou canst make me whole. 

.f~. 1 * : 


I M. ^=L ^. || 
,y ): * g * [ T 9 * * j i ' g ' "i 

There is none in hea - ven or on earth like Thee : 



i r 

Thou hast died for sin ners ; there - fore, Lord, for me. 






The Dream Cathedral . . 315 

Christmas Decorations 319 

United Bible Reading 321 

"All Things" 324 

Words about Work 334 

Motto Verses, for Open Air Mission Workers . . 338 

Excerpts : on Music, etc 340 


LETTERS, ETC. By Rev. C. B. Snepp, Miss Cby, Miss Ada 

Leigh, *' B. M.," Miss Kirchhoffer, Bishop Alexander, etc. 344 



F. R. II. AND Irisii SOCIETY WORK 371 

IN MEMORIAM By various Authors 376 



{The outline of this early composition (1857) was a real dream.'} 
I STOOD in the nave of a strangely magnificent cathedral. Such a 
cathedral it was as seemed to be the very embodiment of the highest 
ideal of beauty and grandeur. Around me were fluted columns 
of snowy marble, enriched with carvings of foliage, such as the 
artist might have seen in a vision of Eden, meeting above in 
pointed arches, whose upward curve seemed to beckon heavenwards 
and to speak of celestial aspirings ; the floor was marble too, and 
as unsullied in its whiteness as the dewy petal of a lily, ere the 
dusty breath of day has passed upon it, and telling me of purity 
and innocence ; then the vaulted roof, the union of those arching 
columns, with its dim twilight of undefined yet beautiful inter- 
lacings, spoke of holy mysteries. There were long shadowy aisles 
stretching far away, and their whispering echoes suggested sacred 
solitude and retirement. There were marble steps leading up to a 
screen of such cunning work that the very stone seemed to breathe 
forth beauty, and, if possible, to shadow forth the loveliness of 
religion. And beyond this were glimpses of such a choir, so 
wonderful in its transcendent beauty, as seemed scarcely fitted for 
mortal worshippers to kneel within. All this was seen, as it 
were, through the veil of a softened, shadowy radiance, poured 
through windows whose Gothic tracery enclosed, not stained glass, 
but a mosaic of the most gorgeous gems, casting the glow of their 
rich deep colouring on portions of the fair whiteness of pillar and 
arch and pavement, bathing all in a light, splendid even in the 
solemnity of its dimness. 

Scarcely had admiration and wonder time to unfold, when the 


tones of cathedral music swelled through the marvellous temple. 
Soft and sweet as a symphony of angel harps, the sound seemed to 
enwreathe itself around the marble shafts, and to melt into the dark 
vaultings of the lofty roof, as though there were some strange 
affinity between them ; and then, at every pause, it hovered away 
far down the lessening aisles, till the whole building was like one 
great living instrument. Then voices came floating down that 
glorious nave : sweet and melodious, shall I call them ? words do 
not express what those voices were ; and the anthem which they 
chanted was such as Handel might dream, perhaps, but never wrote. 

Do you not know what it is to see something very beautiful, and 
yet feel unsatisfied? to hear the sweetest sounds, and yet feel they 
might be sweeter? to enjoy the greatest apparent delight, and yet 
feel that it is not the perfection of happiness? I cannot think that 
the human spirit is ever positively and absolutely satisfied ; it is too 
great, too vast, (though we scarcely know it,) to be filled with any- 
thing on earth ; its real ideal is never found ; it is ever striving and 
yearning after something greater, higher, lovelier ; and its Maker is 
its only satisfaction. 

But I was satisfied. It was the psrfectiori of beauty, the per- 
fection of enjoyment ; my longings realized, and more still. All 
this seemed to carry my heart upwards, I felt filled with joyful de- 
votion, and adoration was the keynote of the silent anthem of my 
spirit. Then the thought came across me: "Can it be that such 
a temple is unfavourable to true devotion ? can it be that a spirit 
could remain earthbound here, and not soar far, far upwards, in the 
holiest, happiest, adoration?" 

Suddenly I heard a voice, clear, culm, and very grave, though I 
saw not the speaker. It spoke to inc : ' ' Your Saviour is here t you 
have long sought Him, He is about to manifest Himself to you. 
See! He is standing there in His own glorious Person!" In an 
instant all else had lost its interest. Oh ! it was so strange, that 
sudden revulsion of feeling. Fancied devotion gave way to the 
reality of the intensest earnestness ; the temple in all its fascinating 
grandeur was nothing, absolutely nothing ; His Presence there was 
the only thing I longed for. I gazed intently where the voice indi- 
cated ; I saw One standing alone, and knew and _/!// that it was 
Himself. But the many-lined shadow of one of the gem-filled 


windows fell upon His Form, and I could not discern its outline, 
much less His countenance. 

" Listen !" said the voice again ; " He is speaking to you. Are 
not His words sweet and gracious !" But a fresh burst of music 
pealed from the organ, the voices of the invisible choristers rose 
higher and louder, and the tide of melody carried away the sound 
of that heavenly Voice, whose words would have been more than 
life to me. Oh, how each note grated upon me ! how I hated the 
music, which drowned the gentle tones of that Voice ! 

I determined to approach, and at least be gladdened by His look, 
though His words might not reach my ear. I hastened on, but the 
marble steps grew in height under my feet, and I could not ascend 
them as quickly as I thought to do, each one seemed a mountain. 
But He was turning to look on me, and something seemed to tell 
me certainly that He was going to rejoice me with one of His own 
sweet smiles, another instant, and His eye would have met mine, 
when one of the fluted pillars suddenly rose in front of me, the 
blessed moment was gone, and He passed away down one of the 
dim shadowy aisles. 

In desperation I rushed on, as if every hope, every desire, of a 
lifetime were concentrated in that one passing instant ; I gained the 
entrance of the aisle, when the exquisite screen, which a moment 
before had so charmed me, stretched itself in defiance across it, 
barring the only way by which I could reach the departing Saviour. 

He was gone ! and all seemed changed to darkness and discord. 
In the very agonies of regret and despair I sank on the pavement, 
and awoke! 

The moral, so to speak, of this dream will be apparent to every 
one. What is earthly beauty to a soul longing for its Saviour, and 
thirsting for His grace ? What are externals compared to internals ? 
But I would not be misunderstood, there is no reason why the other 
extreme should be advocated. I am, and always have been, a warm 
admirer of those time-honoured ornaments of our land, the crown 
jewels, as it were, of our outward and visible Church, our English 
cathedrals. He who giveth us all things richly to enjoy must have 
awakened, or rather created, those thoughts of beauty which ex- 
pressed themselves in these glorious temples, notwithstanding the 
tainted atmosphere of superstition which then darkened our land ; 


and if their original purpose, the setting forth of Jehovah's praise 
and glory, is sometimes far from being attained, the fault is not 
in the temples, but in any who do not within them worship God in 
spirit and truth. It is not the grace and grandeur of their archi- 
tecture which frustrate their noble object, but the earthliness of men's 
hearts, which rises not above pillar and roof and spire, but lies like 
the cold pavement itself, resting in things seen and temporal. If 
it be true that "unto the pure all things are pure," just as true is it 
that, to the unrenewed mind and unwatchful heart, the holiest things 
may and do become snares and stumbling blocks ; satisfied with the 
beauty of earthly sanctuaries, and the solemnity of mere earthly 
forms, they yearn not for the "beauty of the Lord our God," who 
"dwelleth not in temples made with hands." But the soul of one 
who knows Him who is "altogether lovely," and longs for the day 
when he shall "see the King in His beauty," while rejoicing in, 
and loving, our old cathedrals in their ancient hoariness, will yet 
esteem them as nothing in comparison with the higher things on 
which his heart is set. And it will probably be found that, after all, 
he who thus gives such things their right and subordinate place has 
the purest enjoyment in, and the truest appreciation of, those ancient 
fanes which have stood for centuries, the silent witnesses of the 
beauty of religion. 

May each one who reads this dream find, and know, and rejoice 
in that Saviour, whose whisper of pardoning love is sweeter than 
earth's sweetest music, whose smile of acceptance is lovelier tlun 
earth's loveliest scene ! May he himself become a " temple of the 
Holy Ghost," bright with the beauty of holiness, and shining in the 
light of the countenance of our God ! 

F. R. II. 



WHEN our young friends use their taste, and skill, in wha : seems, 
on the surface of things, a sacred work, the beautifying of God's 
sanctuary for a holy festival, do they ever consider that, whatever 
the theoretical aim may be, the practical result is, necessarily and 
distinctly, temptation? Temptation, moreover, in exact propoition 
to the taste and skill displayed ! The experience of every honest 
conscience shows that when we, who naturally love all that is 
beautiful, enter a church beautifully decorated, the temptation to 
wandering eyes and thoughts is just in proportion to the exquisite- 
ness and elaborateness of the decorations. We have come to seek 
Jesus, to find the Shepherd "by the footsteps of the flock"; we 
want to commune with Him, and we want Him to speak to our 
hearts ; we want to bs freshly and specially '' looking unto Jesus " 
in all the meaning of that word, looking away from all else, looking 
unto Him. And at once our eye is caught by an elegant festoon, and 
a singularly effective twining of a pillar or picking out of a mould- 
ing, and a most charming device on the reading desk, and a novel 
arrangement of the panels of the pulpit. It is all lovely, much 
prettier than last year, the general effect is so good, and so on. 
And suddenly we remember what we came for, and we make a 
great effort to turn away our eyes and fix them on ' ' Jesus only " ; 
but somehow the electric chain has been severed, the other things 
have entered in ; and when we again look up, to meet the smile 
of the " Prince of Peace," we find there has been " something be- 
tween" ; our eyes have involuntarily turned away from the "King 
in His beauty " to the passing prettiness of garland and wreath. 
What have we not lost ? But simple texts of Scripture I see no 
objection to. 

The dilemma for the decorators is, do they wish their work to be 
looked at and admired, or do they not ? If not, why put it where 
it must attract the eye? But if they do, let them remember that 
the mind cannot be equally occupied with two things at the same 
time ; and that the moments spent in admiring gize on their graceful 
work cannot be spent in adoring gaze on the Lord of Christmas, 
the Altogether Lovely One. 


But there is something to be said for "Christmas decorations," 
where they will lead to no wandering thoughts in worship. If our 
bright young decorators could but see the gleam, on suffering or 
aged faces, when ' a bit of Christmas" reaches the lonely lives in a 
hospital or workhouse ward ; if they would but listen to the echo 
from the Mount of Olives, " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one 
of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me"; surely 
they would gladly try to use their taste and energies for them, 
instead of the mere delectation, or even spiritual hindrance, of a 
fashionable congregation. It would be so easy ; just a little 
bouquet of evergreens, for each poor bedside ; just a little festoon- 
ery, for the bare walls ; just a Christmas motto or two ; they 
cannot tell, till they have seen for themselves, what an amount of 
pleasure they would give to those who have so little to cheer them ! 
Will not some of our younj friends do this little service for the 
Master's sake this next Christmas, each in his or her own locality ? 
For London, they might communicate with the lion. Secretary of 
the Flower Mission, 3, Clyde Street, S.W., or with the Secretary of 
the Mildmay Flower Mission, Deaconess House, Mildmay Park, 
N. ; or the work might be done in the country workhouses and 
infirmaries, for, as a rule, far less is done to brighten them than 
the larger ones. 

Where there is a will there is a way, and, as an old poet says, 
"love will find out the way." May the love of Christ constrain 
many, even in this,not to please themselves, but Him who came to 
seek and to save that which was lost. 

F. R. II. (187.=; ) 



"WELL, Miss, as long as I was reading regular, I thought I 
might as well read what the others were reading," said a young 
man-servant, as his reason for joining the "Christian Progress 

' ' As well ! " Yes, and much better. To begin with, we ought, 
every one of us, to be "reading regular." There is no doubt 
about that. How is any soul to "grow " on one meal a day, or on 
uncertain and occasional draughts of the "sincere milk of the 
word"? Regularly, not only as to constancy, but as to system. 
How much time is wasted in indecision, and wondering what to 
read next ! How many are familiar only with their favourite parts 
of God's word, neglecting others almost entirely ; thus overlooking 
many a royal commandment, and losing much of the royal bounty, 
and gaining no wide and balanced views, of the great field of His 
truth ! How can we be " throughly furnished unto all good 
works," if we do not use God's means thereto, " all Scripture" ? 

And if we are, as every Christian ought to be, reading both parts 
of His word regularly eveiy day, why not "read what others 
are reading " ? Why should you read Galatians while others are 
reading Ephesians ; Ephesians while they are in Philippians? Why 
not "keep rank" with all one's Christian friends, and thousands 
of fellow members, praying for the same light, the same teaching, 
day by day, for them and for ourselves? Why not lie down 
together in the green pastures, instead of scattering all about ? 

There are several arrangements for united reading, and member- 
ship of any will be more or less profitable. But some features of 
the ' ' Christian Progress Scripture Reading and Prayer Union " 
seem to me to render it not only profitable, in a special degree, for 
ourselves, but peculiarly valuable, as an adjunct to our work among 

Our members read one chapter every day in the Old Testament, 
going straight through ; and a short evening reading in the New 
Testament, in consecutive portions, averaging about fifteen verses. 



Personally, I believe each will find it a real help, and not a fetter 
or limit, to have these assigned portions. There is, or should be, 
plenty of time for any further Bible study, which may attract us. 
But this is a reminder to the young or unestablished Christian. It 
is a guard against desultoriness. It is a counteractive to one-sided- 
ness, and a gentle guide into " the whole counsel of God." It 
forms a pleasant bond alike for the near and the distant. It is a 
connecting link for scattered families and severed friends. It is 
also an immense help to profitable intercourse. The mere fact of 
knowing that those around have certainly been reading the same 
chapters opens the way for questions or remarks, or mention of 
striking verses, which might not otherwise have been ventured on, 
and thus raises the tone of our household conversation. How few 
of us realize that we have to give account for our empty table-talk ! 
Constantly, too, it will give easier opportunity for improvement of 
even a passing greeting, or enrichment of a quickly written note 
with a living gem of truth. 

I would plead for the servants to be "partakers of the benefit." 
With a little kindly explanation, they are almost invariably pleased 
to join, and the practical benefit is perhaps even greater in the 
servants' hall than in the drawing-room. Children, too, if old 
enough to read for themselves, are important accessions. "It is 
so nice for our little boy and girl to join with us," said a Christian 
mother; "it may be the means of making them steady Bible-readers 
for life ! " I am convinced that it would be a great blessing in 
schools. Many have already joined. In one young ladies' school 
about sixty of the pupils are members. 

Most especially would I commend it to Christian workers. Those 
who have a settled charge will find that no amount of general 
exhortations, to read the Bible, will be so effectual as " Come, join 
with me ! " This is immediate and definite, and will bring persons 
to a point. One lady, after joining herself, obtained some fifty 
members in about a week, from her two Bible-classes. Just try it ! 
Join yourself, first ; and then see if it is not a new power and bless- 
ing among those for whose souls you are labouring. Do not train 
them into bad ways by getting them to read only once a day. If 
you do that, you encourage the comfortable idea that they have done 
their duty very sufficiently by a chapter at night, while the whole 


day has been Scriptureless. Aim higher at once, and you will strike 
higher. There is no power in half measures. It is one of the great 
benefits of this Union, that it is lifting such numbers out of their 
easy-going, once-a-day, reading, into a more excellent way. 

I believe it will be found to be a most valuable parochial 
agent, and that members of any congregation will be strength- 
ening the hands of their ministers, by bringing it before them 
in this light. Very much might be said on this aspect of the 
Union, which it would be stepping out of my province to enlarge 
upon. Perhaps no item of parochial machinery would be so fraught 
with real spiritual blessing as this noiselessly powerful one, wherever 
heartily and thoroughly introduced. 

For those who have temporary opportunities of special work with 
souls, this Union is simply invaluable. It is just what we want to 
consolidate our work. It is our best legacy when leaving those to 
whom we have been privileged to be God's messengers of blessing. 
It is putting them on the rails ; putting them in the way of further 
blessing ; making the surest provision for their nourishment ; giving 
them something which will be definite and perpetual help in the new 
path. It will be a delightful link, and a reminder to mutual prayer. 
It will help them to help each other, and give them something to do 
in trying to get others to join. Work for our young converts is often 
a difficulty, but this will give immediate opportunity both for con- 
fession of Christ and direct usefulness, and often lead to more. 

Now, who Will join us ? You may do so by sending your full name 
and address (stating whether Rev., Mr., Esq., Mrs., or Miss, and 
inclosing a penny stamp) to the Rev. Ernest Boys, Bengeo, Hert- 
ford. You will receive in return a card of membership, a copy of 
the Christian Progress Magazine, and other papers containing full 
information respecting it. If you are not quite sure whether you 
would like it, send for the papers only, and try it for a month. 

There need be no hesitation about joining, on the idea of 
its being a sort of irrevocable promise. You can cease to be a 
member any day, by returning your card of membership. If you 
forget a reading, you have not broken a vow, but missed a 
privilege. Those who cannot read for themselves can have the 
portions read to them ; one of our heartiest members is "no 
scholar," but his little daughter reads to him. 


If you shrink a little from laying aside some favourite plan, or 
want of plan, of your own, will you not remember that " none of us 
liveth to himself " ? If you join for the sake of being in a better 
position to lead and lift others into the benefits of regular reading, 
you surely will not feel it any sacrifice ! Rather you will find, as 
many of us thankfully acknowledge, that it is a decided personal 
benefit to ourselves. 

" Christian Progress" the Organ of the Union, is well described 
as a "Magazine of help and encouragement in Christian life, 
testimony, and work." "Its aim," says the Editor, "is to en- 
courage believers in the Lord Jesus Christ in their daily walk amidst 
the realities of life." Members can send questions relating to 
practical Christian life and work, or to the interpretation of Holy 
Scriptures ; also special requests for prayer, which are inserted 
monthly. The Magazine contains tables of the readings and special 
notices to members. 

In conclusion, let me say to every one of my friends, known and 
unkiown, ' * Come thou with us, and we will do thee good ! " 

F. R. H. 



EVERY year, I might almost say every day that I live, I seem to 
see more clearly how all the rest and gladness and power of our 
Christian life hinges on one thing ; and that is, taking God at His 
word, believing that He really means exactly what He says, and 
accepting the very words in which He reveals His goodness and 
grace, without substituting others or altering the precise moods and 
tenses which He has seen fit to use. Now scarcely any word is so 
often altered by His dear children, (let alone outsiders,) as the word 
"all." Satan can't bear it. He always meets it with a "Yea, 
hath God said all?" It is surprising what a number of substi- 


tutionary words he has ready to suggest "some," "a few," 
1 ' certain things," and perhaps his favourite is " all except." Now 
to whom shall we listen to-day, as we think over a few of the 
passages where God says "All things"? Will you listen to His 
word, or will you accept the devil's " all exce-pt " ? This is what 
I want this afternoon, that we should every one of us simply take 
God's words about "all things," and my prayer is that the Holy 
Spirit may apply at least some one of the passages to every heart, 
and let it ring on a powerful chime of encouragement or comfort 
as may be needed, through many days to come. I don't think it 
very much matters what I say about the texts, they themselves are 
the message. 

In seeking out what God has said about "all things," the texts 
found seem to group themselves into four sets. 

I. All things are of God. 

II. All things are by Jesus Christ. 

III. All things are for your sakes. 

IV. All things are yours. 

I. " All things are of God:' (2 Cor. v. 18.) Here we seem to 
have a grand foundation laid in the past, and a most beautiful and 
perfect daily building upon it in the present. 

1. Look back for a moment at the foundation, it is very strength- 
ening to do so. Recollect how the great plan of our salvation, 
yours and mine, was " of God." The great promise of eternal life 
was "of God," given by Him before the world began, when we 
were not there to receive it, and therefore given to Jesus to hold for 
us. Search out, (from memory, or with concordance,) what God 
did for us before the foundation of the world, how He chose us in 
Christ, wrote our names in the Lamb's book of life, provided our 
redemption, and prepared the kingdom for us think of all this 
being "of God," and seal it with the words "I know that what- 
soever God doeth, it shall be for ever : nothing can be put to it, 
nor anything taken from it" (Eccles. Hi. 14). What He hath done 
cannot be reversed, what is of Him cannot come to naught. Now 
just let us take the strong consolation of this. For this is the 
foundation of Christ's promise, "My sheep shall never perish," 
for " salvation is of the Lord " (Jonah ii. 9). 

2. But many of us have learnt the blessedness of seeing that all 


this is "of God," who do not quite take the comfort of the daily 
building upon it. 

Now here comes in the splendid fact of the literality of "all 
things," with no added "except." For see Rom. xi. 36, John xvii. 
7, i Chron. xxix. 14. Just look at it ! Positively "all things!" 
All that surrounds our lives and position, all that affects our work, 
our health, all that moulds our characters, all that is, and all that 
comes to His children, is "of God" and cometh "of God" to us. 
Of course the objection arises, But what of things which really 
don't seem to be "of God" at all? Some one has beautifully 
said that though a wrong or injurious word or action may not be 
God's will for the person who says or does it, by the time it reaches 
me it is God's will for me, and is "of God " to me. Take as 
instances I Kings xii. ; it seemed a sad and distressing thing that 
Rehoboam should so act as to divide the kingdom, but God says 
" this thing is from Me." He had His own purposes to fulfil by 
it. Then Gen. xlv. 8, and 1. 20. Don't you think it would have 
been terribly hard for you, if you had been Joseph's sister, to be- 
lieve beforehand that his being sold was "of God"? Yet, when 
God has once for all told us that "all things are of Him," why 
should we not believe at once, instead of feeling all the misery of 
first doubting and then being ever so sorry that we did doubt, when 
after a while we see that it was of God ! Now to be practical : just 
use this thought. The very next time something turns up which 
seems all wrong and disappointing, say "all things are of God," 
therefore this thing is "of God." Of Whom? God, the Father, 
of whom are all things (i Cor. viii. 6). Some of us know the 
force of that word by possession, and some by loss. The Father 
that pitieth, knoweth, careth for you, loveth you the God whom 
Jesus called "My Father and your Father!" He knows the 
sorrows, the way that you take, the works (for He hath prepared 
them for us, and has wrought them in us) ; He knows all things, 
and all these things are " of Him." Now if there were no more, is 
it not enough that "all things are of God!" 

II. But how are all things of God? We can't grasp a mere 
passive being, we crave a personal agent. Here it is. " One 
Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things " (i Cor. viii. 6, Heb. ii. 
10). The Father has appointed and exalted Him to this. Did 


you ever think of the immense comfort it is to know that God has 
given Him to be (i) Head over all things to His church, that it is to 
you and me, the things that we can't manage, can't bring about, 
can't control, the persons or circumstances, which seem altogether 
beyond our reach to bend, Jesus is over them all, given to us to be 
not only our Head, but Head over all things ! What rest it is to 
know this ! Then all things are put under His (2}feef. No matter 
that we see not yet "Thou hast put," the two can't be separated: 
Satan is under His feet with a bruised head ; the world is under 
His feet (wonderful footstool that !) ; and we, if in Christ, joined to 
Him, must have all these things under our feet too. Then God has 
given all things into His (3) hand (John iii. 35). Jesus knows it, He 
knew it even before He went forth to the great conflict (John xiii. 
3}. All His saints are in Thy hand (Deut. xxxiii. 3), our works 
(Eccles. ix. i), and our times (Ps. xxxi. 15). 

Now with our Lord Jesus Christ given to be Head over all 
things, having all things put under His feet, and all things given 
into His hand, what in the world have we to fear ! Somebody met 
this the other day with "nothing, except myself!" And God 
meets this "except" with another "all things." He tells us of 
the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, being able to subdue all things 
unto Himself. Then He must be able to subdue myself unto Him- 
self. "But I don't find that He has done so ! " And why not ? 
"Because of your unbelief." As God has appointed faith as the 
means and the measure of our reception of His promises, is it any 
wonder that, when we don't, and won't, and don't even want to, 
believe a given promise, we don't find it fulfilled ? Of course 
not ! Here we have come to a most practical and closely touch- 
ing test of taking God at His word. I put it to you, dear 
friends, solemnly. God says Jesus is able to subdue all things 
unto Himself. At this moment the devil is whispering at the 
hearts of some of you, "Yes, hath God said all things? it 
only means able to subdue all things except." And some of 
you are adding to the word, and saying, Yes, except my will, 
or except my wandering thoughts, or except my sinful nature, or 
except my forgetfulness, or something ! Face it ! Which is it to 
be? God says "all things." Satan says "all things except." 
Believing God's bare word, no matter how unlikely it seems, you 


shall find strength, freedom, yes, such a blessing as only He can 
give. Believing Satan, you shall just go on without all this, you 
shall go on doubting His power, and calling your doubt humility ; 
and more than this, you shall go on sinning against God, the great 
monster sin of unbelief. It is no light thing to come face to face 
with any one of God's promises, and to turn away from it with a 
devil-breathed "Except." 

Shall I go on now to think of what Jesus actually is doing ? The 
great covenant is ordered in all things by God, but the agent of 
that covenant is Jesus Christ. As He has already fulfilled its 
conditions, so He is now carrying out its provisions. God is 
supplying all our need by Jesus Christ, just as much as He created 
all things by Him. And as Jesus is now upholding all by the word 
of His power, so He is upholding us from moment to moment. 
Must be ! for unless we were annihilated we must be among the 
"all things." But still He loves to be inquired of, and so we pray 
(Ps. cxix. 116) "Uphold me according to Thy word," and 
"hold Thou me up," and how do you sometimes finish it up? 
"Hold Thou me up, and I know I shall fall to-day, notwith- 
standing ! " Have you not had that ending pretty often in 
your hearts? Only you did not put it in so many words. Now 
trust that glorious Arm, trust that mighty Hand, that pierced Hand, 
and say, looking up to Jesus, "and I shall be safe!" Leaning 
on that Arm, letting ourselves rest in the hollow of that Hand, 
we shall be at leisure, so to speak, to look around, and watch the 
goings of our King, and to see the wonderful things He is doing 
in the world, in His church, in our lives, and I am not afraid to 
add, even in our hearts. Then, inevitably, we shall burst out into 
praise, and say "He hath done all things well" (Mark vii. 37), 
while we wonder every one at all things which Jesus does (Luke 
ix. 43). 

This leads us to what seems to me the central thought and 
greatest passage of all, Col. i. 16-18. Here we see God's great 
object in doing all things by Jesus Christ, " that in all things He 
might have the preeminence." Now it is very easy to concede this 
as a grand general truth, and to see how it applies to creation, pro- 
vidence, and redemption. But remember that "all things " includes 
every little detail of our lives and service. Has Jesus Christ really 


and truly the preeminence in all things here ? The word implies 
coming first and being first. Does He really come first in our 
plans ? I don't mean ultimately and nominally j but, oh, you know 
the difference ! is Jesus just really the first thought, the first con- 
sideration? Especially in routine work, things that come round 
every week, has He this real coming firstl In our homes has He 
the preeminence ? are they really ordered not merely as if Jesus 
were the chief guest, but ordered so because He is the chief and 
always abiding Guest ? Has He the preeminence always ? Has He 
now, at this very moment ? Is Jesus, our own dear Lord, really 
preeminent ? Did you come to meet Him ? Are you looking for 
His message only? That in all things He \ Himself \ Who else is 
worthy ? It is His right. Once touch on His name, and one has 
no words. One wants so very much that He should have it. He 
whom we do love, He who so loves us. Well, has He ? Some, 
thing or some one must have it, must come first. If He doesn't 
come first, something else does, and that won't do ! No matter 
how dear a cause may be, that must not have it. There is wrong 
done to our Master if any cause, any denominational interest, any 
personal feeling, any prejudice, has for even one single five minutes 
the preeminence in our consideration or motive. Go deeper still, 
what if self has the preeminence ! One almost writhes with shame 
that it should ever be so ; yet probably many hearts go with mine 
in bitter self accusation that it has been so. Just to think that 
whenever either self or anything else comes first, Jesus does not, and 
we are at that moment in actual, even if unconscious or rather un- 
recognised, rebellion against God's great purpose that His dear Son 
should have the preeminence ! Why, it is actually the sin of the 
fallen angels ! And perhaps we have never seen it to be sin at all ! 
Now let us bring it to the fountain opened, and now let us entreat 
Him so entirely to reign over us and in us, that henceforth in all 
things He may really have the preeminence ! 

III. "All things are for your sakes" (2 Cor. iv. 15). Connect this 
with Prov. xvi. 4, " the Lord hath made all things for Himself," 
and we get a wonderful view of the love of God and unity of interest 
with Him. Another parallel pair is Rom. viii. 28 with Eph. i. n. 
No wonder that all things work together for good when He worketh 
all things after the counsel of His will ! For the will is the very 

330 MEMORIALS OF F. tf. //. 

centre point of conscious being ; and as the nature is, so is the will. 
Now if God's nature is revealed to be Love, His will must be all 
love too. So when we are told that He worketh all things after 
the counsel of His will, that is the same as saying He worketh ac- 
cording to His love, " the great love wherewith He loveth us." 

Can love work willingly anything but good to its object ? So, too, 
if He has made all things for Himself, love is the link which leads 
to the more wonderful declaration, " all things are for your sakes." 
Look out on creation, stars by night, all that light reveals by day, 
not only that your Father made them all, but all for your sakes. 
Look at wonders of natural history, and science, some of us have 
keen enjoyment in these. Recollect not only that they are the 
wonderful works and laws and embodied thoughts of your Father, but 
all for your sakes. Look at the strange entangled mazes (as they 
seem to us, being the wrong side of the tapestry,) of His government 
of the world, His ways with man in history, His singular present 
overrulings and developing; of things, all for your sakes. Look 
nearer at the surroundings of our own lives, things great and small 
affecting us, all for your sakes. Again, are you prepared actually to 
believe this ? Perhaps you can accept the great facts that God made 
the world and governs the world all for His children's sakes, and 
yet do not practically believe that the things quite close to you every 
day, this day, are all for your sakes. You don't like some of these 
things, yet they are for your sakes. They are so arranged as to turn 
out for the very best for you. We talk of killing two birds with one 
stone, and think it clever to manage it. Think of the incomprehen- 
sible wisdom which fits all things into your single life so that all 
shall work together for good, and then that these " all things" are 
also and at the same time fitted all round into the lives of all His 
children with which they come in contact. " Ordered in all things." 
Do you think you could improve upon this ordering ? Would you 
like to have a try at it, just for yourself only, and just for one day ? 
All, would you dare it ? What a terrible mess we should make if 
He left us to it, or if He entrusted us to order a little bit of the 
lives of those dear ones about whom we are so trustless I 

Well then, if you would not dare to take the reins, why not leave 
them where they are, in His own hand ? Is it not senseless, when 
one comes to think of it, let alone wrong, to fidget and worry about 


any one thing at all, when He says His covenant is ordered in all 
things and sure, and that all things are for your sakes ? We do 
specially want to remember here that all things means all things, 
because when the things present are sorrowful, and faith-testing, and 
painful, and perplexing, we begin again with that dreadful word 
"except." Are some of us face to face with some of these things 
now ? What shall we then say to these things ? What have others 
said? Take three instances. Gen. xlii. 36: Jacob said, "All 
these things are against me." Were they ? How tiemendously he 
was mistaken ! But he had not the clear promises we have. Heze- 
kiah (Isa. xxxviii. 16) got a great deal farther. He said : " By 
these things men live, and in all these things is the life of my 
spirit." "These things " meant for him going down to the gates of 
the grave, and being well-nigh cut off with pining sickness. Yet 
that which \vas almost death to the body was life to the spirit. 
Have not some of us found it so ? I have, and many others. I 
won't ask others to take our word about it, but I do ask them to 
take this inspired word about it, and to trust and not be afraid if 
such things come to you. It is worth suffering to prove it. But St. 
Paul got farther still (Rom. viii. 37) : " In all these things we are 
more than conquerors," etc. What things? We can't write out 
quite such a serious list as he did of things which seem to be against 

He not only makes all things work together for good, but does 
more: "performeth all things for me." And if we did but open 
our eyes and notice, we should see Him at work for us. Every day 
is full of miracles when the Holy Spirit really opens our eyes to see 
God working them, and I often think it is the very little things 
which most magnify His lovingkindness. We talk about the tele- 
scope of faith, but I think we want even more the microscope of 
watchful and grateful love. Apply this to the little bits of our daily 
lives, in the light of the Spirit, and how wonderfully they come out ! 
We see these little things in their true greatness, and in the beauty 
of their fitness as parts of His own perfect plan of our lives, which 
He is working out for us hour by hour. Don't wait for to-morrow ; 
take this day, the morning hours past, the evening ones to come ; and 
apply this microscope, and see if you don't find you are walking in 
the midst of miracles of love, and that all things are for your sakes. 


IV. But there is a step beyond even this : "All things are 
yours." Here it seems as if we want increase of faith, not only as 
to willingness and energy, but as to actual capacity to take it in. 
It seems more than we can grasp, we are narrow-necked bottles set 
under a very Niagara of grace and blessing. One really can only 
look at what He says about it, and bow one's head and say, " what 
shall I render?" And the only true answer is, " I will take the 
cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord " (Ps. 
cxvi. 13). What does He say? (Prov. xxviii. 10.) "The upright 
shall have good things in possession," not in possibility or even in 
promise. Then we find one bearing witness to it and saying 2 Cor. 
vi. 10; then we have it in parable (Luke xv. 31); then explicitly 
and in detail (2 Pet. i. 3) ; then we hear of some one who had 
claimed and received it (i Cor. i. 5) ; then we find the splendid 
proof that God means what He says about it (Rom. viii. 32) ; then 
we have it set forth so positively that there is no room left, it would 
seem, for any Satanic " except" (2 Cor. ix. 8); and then it is summed 
up in these grand words which we are now looking at (i Cor. iii. 21). 
Can you take that in ? See what God has given you ! Have you 
ever really said "thank you " for it? Oh give unto God the glory 
due unto His name, and may He give us " that due sense of all His 
mercies, that our hearts may be unfeigneclly thankful." If He has 
given us all things, have we any business to live as spiritual paupers ? 
Half the reason why we don't praise Him as we ought is because 
we don't really believe what great things He has given us. Oh 
"consider what great things He hath done for you" (i Sam. xii. 
24). Let us ask Him for much more of His Holy Spirit, that 
we may know the things that are freely given to us of God (i Cor. 
ii. 12). And then, in proportion as we know these things, and 
most of all, in proportion as we know God's greatest gift, Jesus 
Himself, we shall say, " Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but 
loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord " 
(Phil. iii. 8). 

"All things are yours." "Perhaps so," says Satan, "but that 
means only spiritual things, and has nothing to do with these tem- 
poral things which are pressing you ! " Is this the special trouble 
of any here ? Money matters do come awkward sometimes ! 

Again we are met with an " all things " : "seek ye first the king- 


dom of God, and His righteousness ; and all these things shall be 
added unto you" (Matt. vi. 33). All these things, food and clothing, 
etc. No doubt some of us could bear witness to how really curiously 
God has fulfilled this, adding to the first sought grace of His king- 
dom just the thing that we didn't quite see our way to, as to some 
needed supply of dress, change of air, or other of " these things." 
Why should one ever have an anxious thought in this direction, 
when He has downright forbidden it on the one hand, "take no 
thought," etc., and when He so tenderly says "your Father 
knoweth," on the other ! 

Great gifts and privileges are always linked with duties and pre- 
cepts, so we will just glance at a few. Here are our marching 

All things are of God ; therefore, ' ' let all your things be done 
with charity " (i Cor. xvi. 14) ; and also, " all things without mur- 
murings," etc. (Phil. ii. 14.) "All things are by Jesus Christ ;" 
therefore, let us seek to "adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in 
all things" (Tit. ii. 10) ; "in all things showing thyself a pattern 
of good works " (ver. 7). All things are for your sakes, and all 
things are yours ; therefore, let us be "giving thanks always for all 
things " (Eph. v. 20). Thus we shall " grow up into Him in all 
things, which is the Head, even Christ" (Eph. iv. 15); "being 
obedient in all things " (2 Cor. ii. 9). Then we may tell Him all 
things (Mark vi. 30), and rest in His omniscience and omnipotence, 
for " all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of Him with 
whom we have to do" (Heb. iv. 13), and with Him "all things 
are possible " (Matt. xix. 26). 

My wish for you is that in your hearts and homes, service and 
rest, God "in all things " may be glorified through Jesus Christ. 

F. R. H. 



AMONG the multitude of our thoughts within us, at the solemn pass- 
ing from the year for ever closed into the veiled and trackless paths 
of the New Year, our work, past and future, is, most likely, very 
prominent. Perhaps the very first thing all the true workers will be 
telling the patient Master, about their work, is what one of the most 
Christ-like workers I ever heard of said to me the other day : " It 
all wants forgiving." For conscience responds to the truth of His 
declaration, " Neither shall they cover themselves with their own 
works." One flash of the Spirit's light is enough to show us how 
true that is, and how really and truly we have been unprofitable 
servants. Yes, forgiveness for all our sins comes first, failures and 
successes alike all needing the sprinkled blood. 

What does the next flash, or even the same flash, show ? Not 
a promise merely, but a declaration of one of God's grand facts : 
"Thou hast forgiven Thy people from Egypt even until now." 
All along, ever since He brought us out of the house of bondage, 
that we might be His own happy servants, even until now, this very 
New Year's day, He has forgiven; yes, "even until now," this, 
very minute. And so we start out upon the New Year, forgiven ; 
our work begins again, "forgiven" 

What about all this forgiven work ? What has become of it ? 
Where is it ? " Surely my judgment is with the Lord, and my work 
with my God." That is where it is, yours and mine : poor, feeble, 
failing, forgiveness -needing, passing and past, though it be ; not 
done with, and on the way to being forgotten ; not even stored 
away in the archives of eternity ; safer, more honoured than that, it 
is with our God, and " surely " so. Do not you think that what is 
with Him is in sufficiently safe keeping ? Is it not enough that the 
glory of the Lord is thus our reward in our work ? Well may Paul 
say that ' ; God is not unrighteous to forget your work and labour of 
love," when it is all, just where we ourselves are, in the safe keep- 

* From Word and Work Magazine. 


ing of His own hand. For " the righteous, and the wise, and their 
works, are in the hand of God." Works past, as well as works 
present and future, are there. 

Then as to the work before us. There really is nothing but en- 
couragement in His word for His workers : not a precept without a 
corresponding promise ; not an allusion to difficulties without ten 
times as many clear corresponding notes of hope and help. And, 
of course, what He promises He not only means, but actually does 
fulfil to His faithful ones. 

Let us just think for a few minutes, for our comfort, what He does 
say. " Work ; for I am with you, saith the Lord of hosts." That 
alone is the grandest, sweetest, richest " guerdon " here that any 
loving heart can ask. " With you " ; not merely looking down out 
of the sky at you struggling in your work, but by your very side, 
closer than the nearest colleague, holding you by the hand, whispering 
words of strange power for you to use, and words of still stranger 
power for your own heart only, calming, and strengthening, and 
gladdening it j so that if you are "men wondered at " by others, 
you are a great deal more wondered at by yourself. You are so 
" marvellously helped," that you " never would have thought it ! " 
No, of course not ; but, you see, His thoughts towards you in your 
work were much better than yours, and you can say : 

" And now I find Thy promise true, 

Of perfect peace and rest ; 
I cannot sigh I can but sing 

While leaning on Thy breast, 

And leaving everything to Thee 

Whose ways are always best." 

Some of us know what it is to be miserably afraid of making 
mistakes in our work. How graciously He meets this with ' ' I will 
direct their work in truth." If we could see under the surface, 
surely we should see that no mistakes are made when we are really 
trusting this word. Asking without trusting, i.e. not " in faith," or 
asking as a sort of experiment upon the promise, or taking it for 
granted in a general way that God is directing us, or going ahead in 
our particular line without constant uplooking, with the unac- 
knowledged idea that, because we were directed yesterday, things 
will come all right to-day : all this is not the simple, implicit, and 

336 MEMORIALS OF F. R. 12. 

continual waiting of our eyes upon the Lord our God, which meets 
the constant guidance of His eye. But watching daily, and trusting 
simply, this promise will no more fail than any other. And this, 
too, is ordained in the hand of a Mediator. He who appeared to 
Saul and said, "It shall be told thee what thou must do," 
but delegated to none the showing how great things he must 
suffer, seems to be foreshadowed by Moses, who was not only to 
bring the causes of the people to God, but to "show them the 
work that they must do." So will our Lord Jesus Christ Him- 
self show us the work that we must do day by day. And when 
we look onward, perhaps a little wearily, down the long vista of 
a busy year, and say, "Neither is this a work of one day or 
two," He answers, with quick understanding of our thoughts, 
"Lo, I am with you all the days." So, like Asaph and his 
brethren, we may go on "ministering before the Ark (i.e., in the 
special and immediate presence of our Lord) continually, as every 
day's work required." 

Again, in the interests of the bright side and true side of " His 
guerdon here," glance at the typical contrast between the labour in 
the house of bondage, making bricks in full tale without any straw 
given or provided, and the splendid supply of materials for "the 
work of the service of the sanctuary." " For the stuff they had 
was sufficient for all the work to make it, and too much ! " Was not 
this written for our learning, dear fellow workers ? We may have 
no " stuff" at all, to our thinking ; we may be saying, " Have I 
now any power at all to say anything ? " But just as these costly 
and fitting materials were brought to Bezaleel and Aholiab "every 
morning," so regularly and abundantly shall the "stuff" be sup- 
plied to " every one whose heart stirred him up to come unto the 
work to do it." For it is written, " My God shall supply all your 
need, according to His riches in glory by Jesus Christ." Surely 
that measure of pledged supply is " sufficient and too much." And, 
again, we see the hand of the Mediator, for this magnificent supply 
is given " by Christ Jesus," God's great Almoner. 

Now for another promise, which certainly does not lot)k like 
that wretched linking of "labour" with "many a sorrow," and 
"many a tear," of which so many seem to have a dread. But God 
says, "Mine elect shall long enjoy the work of their hands." Quite 


fearlessly I appeal to you to bear witness if God is not true to His 
word ! And I would challenge the world to produce a band of men 
and women who " enjoy" their work as we enjoy ours ! Just let 
the faces of the workers at any gathering bear unconscious witness 
whether they enjoy their work, or not. Look at them as they come 
away, tired, but happy and thankful ! I don't think the fagged 
home goers from any ballroom would witness in the same way to 
real, downright enjoyment of their work, "pleasure" though they 
choose to call it Or compare the faces that leave the Stock Ex- 
change, or a political meeting, or any place where they have been 
simply doing their own work. Yes, there are plenty of troubles, 
and delays, and failures, and headaches, and much weariness, too, I 
know all about that ; but nevertheless, when His elect are truly 
doing His work, sowing His seed, and reaping His precious sheaves, 
they enjoy that work, as He says they shall. And they shall long 
enjoy it, too; other enjoyments pass away in passing, but this only 
passes on to eternal fruition of enjoyment. No wonder if work that 
abides shall be long enjoyed. 

When the Lord says to us, "Prepare thy work," we have the 
comfort of recollecting that He has prepared our works for us (Eph. 
ii. 10, marg.). Why not take the comfort of this as to any untried 
work which we may be ' ' called unto " ? That sphere did not make 
itself, neither did man form it into just what it is at his own will ; it 
was God who prepared it for the worker whom He intended for it ; 
and if there is sufficient evidence that you are called to it, then you 
may rest assured that He " prepared" it and "ordained" it for you. 
Do not let us dwell only on our side of the preparation ; but let us 
recollect that He who prepares the workers prepares the works too, 
and prepares them for us to walk in, i.e., just to go on step by step; 
for that is "walking." Then, for our own side, let us recollect, 
"Thou also hast wrought all our works in us"; or, as the very 
striking margin has it, " for us." So we see that He has wrought 
in us, and for us, every bit of work we have ever succeeded in doing 
as yet ; therefore to Him be all the glory ! And, no less evidently, 
it will be He Himself who will work in us and for us every single 
bit that we shall yet do ; therefore in Him be all our trust ! And 
yet (oh, wonderful condescension !), though it is all His own doing 
from beginning to end, "your work shall be rewarded." " Every 


333 MEMORIALS OF F. R. ff. 

man " (just think ; every one of us poor workers !) " shall receive 
his own reward," not a general premium all round. And this, too, 
by the hand of our Mediator. Knowing that of the Lord ye 
shall receive the reward of the inheritance, for ye serve the "Lord 

May we, for, and in, and all through, the coming year, be so 
many individual illustrations of St. Paul's sevenfold desire for his 
converts as to "every good work." 

May we 

1. Be " prepared VCC&Q every good work." 

2. "Be ready to every good work." 

3. Be " throughly furnished unto all good works." 

4. " Abound vn. every good work." 

5. "Being fruitful in every good work." 

6. Be stablishcd " in every good word and work." 

7. Be made "perfect in every good work." 

F. R. II. 


THE Open-Air Mission Magazine introduces the verses 
written by my dear sister with the following words. 


FOR the past six years the members of the Mission have had 
fellowship with each other by a printed motto, selected by the Com- 
mittee. Miss Frances Ridley Havergal has woven these texts into 
verse. In sending them, with 6000 of her leaflets, for distribution 
by the Mission, she says : " I do think yours is such brave work for 
Jesus. May I pass on to you a text I never noticed till this morn- 
ing ? ' My glory was fresh in me, and my bow was renewed in my 
hand ' (Job xxix. 20), taken with ' Christ in you, the hope of glory ' 
(Col. i. 27), and 'His bow abode in strength' (Gen. xlix. 24). 
May your glory thus be fresh in you, and your bow renewed in your 


hand." This gifted Christian sister went to her rest with God on 
June 3rd, 1879, aged 42. 

1874. "OCCUPY TILL I COME." Luke-nix., 13. 

"Occupy till I return!" 
Let us, Lord, this lesson learn j 
May our every moment be 
Faithfully filled up for Thee. 

1875. "BE NOT FAR FROM ME." Psalm xxii. n. 

"Be not far from me," we pray; 
"I am with thee all the day;" 
This Thy answer, strong and clear, 
Master, Thou art always near. 

1876. " HE is FAITHFUL THAT PROMISED." Heb. x. 23. 

Thou art faithful ! Praise Thy name, 
Thou art evermore the same ; 
Thou hast promised ! Oh how blest 
On Thy royal word to rest. 

1877. "HE THAT WINNETH SOULS is WISE." Prov. xi, 30. 

" He that winneth souls is wise " 
In the Master's gracious eyes ; 
Well may we contented be 
To be counted fools for Thee. 

1878. "REDEEMING THE TIME." Col. iv. 5. 

So may we redeem the time, 
That with every evening chime 
Our rejoicing hearts may see 
Blood-bought souls brought back to Thee. 

1879. " LAY UP His WORDS IN THINE HEART." Job xxii. 22. 

Let us, by Thy Spirit stirred, 
In our hearts lay up Thy word. 
Daily, Lord, increase our store, 
Fill our treasures more and more, 


340 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 


To me the overture to the Lobgesang is a vision of Christian life, 
with its own peculiar struggles and sorrows as well as joys. It is 
the sixth, seventh, and eighth chapters of the Epistle to the Romans 
in essence. The mingling of twilight yearnings, ever pressing 
onward, with calm and trustful praise, ever pressing npivard, is an 
almost unbearably true echo of the heart, especially in the | Alle- 
gretto agitato ; then the Andante religiose is the still, mellow glow 
of " light at eventide," to which one looks forward ; then I go just 
one step farther, and find a fore-echo of the eternal song in the burst 
of vocal praise, after the long tension of the voiceless overture. 

On no form of " The Beautiful " is " passing away " so engraven 
as on music ; I have felt this with painful vividness. In " passing 
away " lies its very essence, not merely its accidents. The most 
exquisite passage, if lingered on, loses its very existence as well as 
beauty ; the time, the motion, is the life, the actual notes only a 
dead letter without it ; while to hold it is simply an inherent im- 

Is not the tendency of the human voice to fall from the true pitch, 
one of the results of " the Fall "? Adam and Eve must have sung 
in tune, like the birds. How wonderful it is, that the birds not 
only sing their own songs in tune, but all the songs always seem in 
tune with each other, except the cuckoo, when passing from his 
major third in May to his minor third (or even second) in June ! 

May not one apply this to the dissonances within, that stun and 
bewilder and weary us, and believe that if we are indeed God's 
chosen praise-harps, all that is not as yet tune is but the tuning, 
which is not in itself beautiful. 

Next after prayer, nothing is so healing and calming as pouring 
out oneself in music. Not in singing; there, one is limited by 
words, but playing, it restores the balance marvellously. Conven- 
tionality would forbid this "antidote of medicated music" in some 
sorrows, but in such one can have the outlet of words and the 
balm of human sympathy ; music seems an especial medicine, for 
all things in which this is not to be had, or could not be sought. 


Gregorians are to me only curious and interesting, like dried 
plants or fossils, not living and lovely. 

Of the chorus " And the glory of the Lord " (Handel's "Messiah ") 
I shall never forget the impression of its first bars at the Birming- 
ham Festival, 1867 ; it gave such a sense of clear sunny grandeur, 
massive open-browed stateliness, and fearless, glorious, over\\helm- 
ingness ; a musical expression of one's ideal personification of 
TRUTH) majestically going forth conquering and to conquer. 

Beethoven's 95th Psalm is a grandly jubilant thing, with contrasts 
of sternness and melancholy. 

I believe that everything earthly contains analogies of the 
heavenly, but that we have not yet the key to all the golden 
ciphers; and it may be that our yet "unpurged vision" is not 
capable of reading them, beyond a certain point. This too, all 
designedly, is the material fitted and planned to reflect the spiritual. 

Rubens' sacred paintings impress one with his wonderful art, 
Vandyke's with the reverent love he betrays for the subject itself. 

Poetry is a second translation of the soul's feeling; it must be 
rendered into thought, and thought must change its nebulous robe 
of semi-wording into definite language, before it reaches another 
heart. Music is a first translation of feeling, needing no second, 
but entering the heart direct. 

Music seems the only universal language understood by men 
of every tongue and age, and by the angels too. It is an alphabet 
of the language of heaven, not any more equal to it than an A B C 
book is to Milton. Why should such a mysteriously subtle and 
unaccountable gratification have been provided for us ? Verily He 
is Love ! 

The magnificent massive choruses in the " Israel in Egypt" need 
a gigantic orchestra to give scope for their great swing of grandeur. 
The mighty flinging of sound from side to side, in some of the 
double choruses, is what might be carried out if Handel had Salis- 
bury Plain for his concert room, cannon for his basses, an army for 
his tenors, and angelic legions for his sopranos, 

342 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

As to the "infinite suggestiveness " of music, the "Israel in 
Egypt " choruses exemplify this to a marvellous degree ; so does 
"Let their celestial concerts" with its blaze of light; so does 
Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony. 

A hush comes over one at the very thought of one so loved being 
on the very threshold of eternal rest and joy, so near Christ's own 
immediate presence. It is as if the veil were growing half trans- 
parent, which hangs between life and its dreams, eternal life and 
its realities. 

The shadow of orphanhood has now fallen upon you ; and there- 
fore His blessed name of Father acquires depth and reality ; " doubt- 
less Thou art our Father." Some day, when we are where they 
reckon not by days and years, He will tell you why He has tried 
you, and let you look back on your life story and see the golden 
thread of His fatherly love and care shining over and around it all, 
not as it is now, winding in and out, and only seen by glimpses. 

"Faithful and True." What a keystone to the grand bridge 
which His promises have made for us, over the abyss of despair and 
misery ! Faithful as regards us ; True, essentially and inherently. 

Experience of life is a great commentary on the Bible, and a sort 
of realization of it. At first, the Bible is a detailed map, which we 
study and admire ; but on the road we find the very same things 
noticed, but not realized, in one's map. Many of the hills and 
valleys I read of (and only read of), in the Psalms, seem to have 
come across my own journey of late. It has been so to-day with 
Isaiah xxvi. 3, which is rather like sitting under the shadow of a 
great rock, which was marked in one's map, but was not in sight a 
few days ago. 

" I have given them Thy word " : John xvii. To me this has been 
a golden key to many other texts, or a sort of seal upon them ; the 
Father's word and the Saviour's gift. Apply this first to the " word 
of reconciliation," the Father's message of salvation through Christ. 
Then to the whole Bible ; it makes it ten times dearer, and it seems 
our claim to appropriate every sweet promise. 



SINCE compiling the Memorials of my dear sister, I 
have discovered this little note among our dear father's 
papers. It is a " line left out," showing the generosity 
of my sister's character, her delight in giving away most 
unselfishly, long before the true impulse of "full and 
glad surrender " balanced all her gifts. 

Frances had just received her first cheque from 
Messrs. Strahan for contributions to Good Words, and 
she writes to her mother in 1863 : 

The cheque is so much larger than I expected, ^10 ijs. 6d. 
Now will you please give ^10 of this to my precious papa for any- 
thing he would like to employ it on ; either keep it for church 
alterations, or if any more immediate and pressing object, I would 
rather he used it for that ; I should be so delighted to be able for 
once to further any little object which he may desire. I should be 
glad if you would send IQJ-. to J. H. E. for the Scripture Readers' 
collection, and the 7-r. 6d. to keep for any similar emergency. 

We add the following, found among Frances' papers. 

MY dear little Fan can hardly think how much her poor papa 
loves her, thinks about her, and prays for her. Yes, he does. 

Thank you, dear child, for remembering me ; I will keep all your 
love, but not the cheque. Our God send you His sweetest and 
choicest blessings. 

W. H. II. 



(To M. V. G. Havcrgal.} 

PERRY VILLA, January 5, iSSo. 

I cannot refuse your natural desire for a few particulars con- 
ca-ning your beloved sister's work in connection with the Hymnal, 
" Songs of Grace and Glory."* In June, 1870, she came to reside 
with us at Perry Villa, and to render her valuable assistance in the 
joint editing of " Songs of Grace and Glory," sometimes composing 
hymns and sometimes tunes, and taking the warmest interest in 
the perfecting of that work, which forms the most comprehensive 
hymnal in the Church of England. It was a real happiness to 
be working together for Christ, and to have seen and known much 
of the hidden history of her life, and traced those deep springs 
from whence welled forth her glorious productions in poetry, prose, 
and music. It pleased God to bless our friendship, and to make 
use of the preaching of the full gospel to instruct and refresh her 
soul. New light dawned in upon her ; until, at length, a full and 
blessed assurance of her present and everlasting salvation in Christ 
Jesus irradiated her whole being. The former intense longings 
"Oh that I could enjoy that sweet sense of pardon and the 
happiness you have in Christ," were, at length, most fully realized ! 
She had passed through deep waters, and the fiery ordeal had purged 
the dross and purified the gold. Great and lasting changes now 
took place ; richer and fuller views of Christ, clearer discernment in 
the deep mysteries of the covenant of grace, doctrinal truths more 
accurately learned and more firmly grasped. "Full assurance of 
faith" was reached, Christ became daily more precious, joy in the 
Lord abounded, faith and hope and love grew exceedingly. 

Your late beloved father, Canon Havergal, had previously shown 
a warm and genial interest in arranging for the supply of tunes to 
meet the requirements of " Songs of Grace and Glory." Indeed, 

* Referred to on page 103 and elsewhcrd 


the last of his own beautiful compositions was written expressly for 
this volume, only a few days before his sudden removal. It is a 
fine tune, and I have since, by permission, named it " Havergal." 

Visiting his late residence, " Pyrmont Villa," after his death, a 
curious kind of instinct seemed to impress rny mind with the firm 
persuasion that his youngest daughter could supply his place, and 
carry on the work as musical editor. After events fully verified all 
this, and showed the father's mantle had fallen with double blessing 
upon his child. It was at this period she came over to reside with 
us, and from time to time, as required, she was guided and enabled 
to write her most beautiful tunes and hymns. She would frequently 
remark : " It is only as, and when, God sees fit to give me a hymn, 
that I can ever write one. " In and through all, the Divine Spirit 
was sought, and most gratefully acknowledged, in answer to prayer. 

We were now engaged upon one of the largest hymnals in the 
Church of England ; restoring the hymns to their originals ; dis- 
covering authors' names and dates ; selecting texts and tunes ; and 
arranging more than a thousand hymns under their proper themes 
and subjects. Some of this material I had been collecting during 
thirty years, desiring to represent every doctrine of Holy Scripture, 
every varying phase of the Christian life, and all the sacred seasons 
of the year. 

In assisting me to carry out, through the press, this great work, 
we had many difficulties, but also many answers to prayer. On 
more occasions than one, when the proof sheets were waiting, 
and the next hymn, upon some important and difficult subject, had 
scarcely reached the high standard desired, we paused for prayer, 
and, spreading the matter before the Lord, asked for His Divine 
Spirit to guide her pen ; and, ere a brief hour or so had passed 
away, the much needed guidance was vouchsafed, and a beautifrl 
hymn produced, in well balanced rhyme and rhythm, and sweetly 
flowing verse. 

The history connected with many of our hymns would form an 
instructive volume, indicating the tidal wave in the Christian 
church, and depicting the ebb and flow of ripening experience and 
doctrine. So, with your sister, her exquisite compositions have their 
special histoiy, while at the same time they mark the wondrous 
growth in faith a.nd love and Scripture doctrine, 


After many years' experience in the study of hymnology, I do not 
hesitate to affirm that the hymnal compositions of Frances Ridley 
Ilavergal must ever rank among the finest in the English language, 
and portray the fullest and ripest fruits of the Christian character. 
Further, upon the most difficult of all themes, "The Attributes of 
Deity," those written by her upon "The Infinity of God," and 
upon "The Eternity of God," have seldom been surpassed, if ever 

Her Birthday and New Year hymns ; her Consecration hymns; the 
popular Missionary hymn ; the Second Advent hymn ; the Sacra- 
mental hymns; the hymn of praise, "Worthy of all Adoration"; 
and such hymns as "O Saviour, precious Saviour," and "Our 
Saviour, our King," "Is it for me, dear Saviour?" and "From 
glory unto glory," and others of this same character, have laid the 
whole church of Christ under great obligations, by this volume. 
And we have been much cheered with many testimonies, from all 
parts, of the Divine blessing upon our work. " She being dead 
yet speaketh," and we thank God the last nine years of her 
eventful life manifested such ripening in knowledge and in grace, in 
extended usefulness, in entire consecration, in holy, happy, and 
honoured service for her Saviour and her King. So that, in all 
my ministerial experience of thirty years, I have never witnessed 
such growth and such marvellous progress, still less such talents, 
laid so humbly at the Master's feet, and so entirely consecrated to 
His glory ! 

I have just been looking over a number of interesting documents, 
comprising letters and manuscript originals of her beautiful tunes, 
as well as hymns, written about this time, all of which bear the 
same impress as that stated above. 

Doubtless the joint editing of so many beautiful hymns and tunes 
exerted their happy influence, and brought a reflex blessing upon 
her own soul. The hymns themselves, expressive of the brightest 
hopes of the church of Christ, would naturally lift the mind from 
the regions of uncertainty and doubt to the higher atmosphere of 
communion and fellowship with God. 

I remain, my dear Friend, yours faithfully in Christ Jesus, 



(From her friend ELIZABETH CLAY.) 

AMONG the most distinct recollections of my childhood is my first 
sight of dear F. R. H. On my return to school at Belmont, after 
the summer holidays, in 1850, I was taken into the large room, 
where all the teachers and pupils had just assembled for tea. Seated 
amongst a group of little ones, at the bottom of a long table, was 
a new pupil, with long golden curls falling around her head. Her 
appearance at once attracted me, for I remember that as I joined the 
party my thought was, "I should like her for my friend." Little 
did I imagine that before the close of that half-year a friendship 
would have commenced between us which resulted in the closest 
intimacy, uninterrupted until her entrance into glory twenty-eight 
and a half years afterwards. It was from the beginning based on an 
earnest desire to know and to follow the Saviour. During the first 
holidays we visited one another's homes, and had Bible reading and 
prayer together. For some years she had not the settled peace and 
joy in the Lord which were so characteristic of her after life ; she 
seemed to seek in vain for any assurance of salvation. In later 
years her impression was that her trying and painful early experi- 
ence was permitted, partly, that it might be evident that her after joy 
had nothing to do with her naturally happy buoyant temperament. 

One night in March, 1859, when we were sharing the same room, 
after rising from prayer, she told me that the words we had read 
together earlier in the evening about the woman in Mark v. 27, 
who " came in the press behind" and touched Jesus, had brought 
comfort to her heart, and that she could now trust that He would 
not turn her away either. This bright gleam of light never passed 
away, but gradually increased and brightened, shining "more and 
more unto the perfect day." She always seemed fully to act up 
to the light given her, and thus, doubtless, it was that some who 
started with her, or before her, found themselves left behind as she 
pressed on in the upward path. Her poetical power impressed me 
even in childhood. I well remember one summer evening walk we 
took together when she was visiting us in the summer of 1851, and 
her rapidly composing some sweet lines on the lovely sunset and 
surrounding scene. 


Letter from Miss ADA LEIGH. 

77, AVENUE WAG RAM, PARIS, June 1879. 

IT is five years ago since I met F. R. H. at the Mildmay Con- 
ference : our first and last meeting face to face, yet not in spirit, 
for the words she wrote were treasured, falling with the dew of 
loving sympathy, pure and fresh, because God-given after the toil 
and heat of a weary day. . . . Just after the first meeting at 
Mildmay for our Paris Homes, when I was feeling the chill which 
creeps over one after a great effort, and in my weakness fearing that 
it had all been a failure, F. R. H. came, threw her arms round my 
neck, her eyes filled with tears, and offered me a handful of her 
jewellery for my work; as she expressed it, "such as I have to 

The next day, after partaking of the Holy Communion in St. 
Jude's Church, the last day of the Conference, 1874, we met again. 
The rain was descending in torrents, making one yearn for showers 
of blessings on souls. I said I could cry aloud, in the burden and 
loneliness of my heart, for showers such as these. " Could you," 
she answered, stopping in the rain, and looking lovingly in my face, 
"could you? then be comforted, God will do great things for 
you." The solemn power and sympathy of her words have never 
been forgotten ; and often, when the burden of souls has lain heavy, 
^ie path narrow, lonely, and rugged, the spirit weak and sore with 
fightings within and fears without, comes back the echo of those 
gentle words of one who well knew what heart dealing with the 
Master was, and His way of dealing with the hearts He would 
make all His own. "Be comforted, God will do great things for 

Letter to MV.G. II. from "KM.," authoress ofEzckiel," 
" Elijah" and other poems. 

September 24, 1879. 

It is indeed a pleasure to recall the few simple incidents of my 
intercourse with your beloved one, and to record them now for you. 
Our friendship was so sweet, so perfect, and, alas for me, so short, 


that it seems almost now like a very lovely dream when one 
awaketh. But no dream, however bright, could have left such a 
light behind it. 

The first communication which passed between us was her note, 
two years ago, asking permission to publish part of " One by One " 
with her own music. This note lies before me now, and is very 
characteristic of the writer. It begins formally, as to a total 
stranger, but her own loving spirit looks out in the closing words, 
" My heart is indeed with thy heart. Yours most cordially, Frances 
Ridley Havergal" ; and the little postscript runs, " With the voice 
together shall they sing, for they shall see eye to eye." 

My first sight of her was, as you know, last year, when she 
passed near our home by rail. I went to our station to meet a 
friend, who had travelled accidentally in the same carriage, and 
pointed me out to her as they drew up. There was a bustle that 
day at our little station, and the train was a long one ; as it moved 
off I saw a bright face leaning out a good way down, and an eager 
hand kissed to me again and again, but I did not quite know till 
afterwards that it really was to me, for the bright face was that of a 
stranger, and there were many people standing about. It gives me 
a little pang still, to think that the sweet impulsive greeting was 

Soon after this we met, as you know ; and then came the two 
happy days she spent with us. None of the time was lost in 
"making acquaintance"; we knew each the heart of the other, 
though only till then in cold print, and commenced on the level of 
that knowledge. We asked each other countless questions and 
compared many notes, as to how "things" occurred to us, how they 
changed and began to live and grow and take possession of us, and 
how finally they "got written." She said once or twice, "I have 
never had exactly this kind of intercourse with any one, how 
deliciously interesting it is." She told me that she almost always 
completed each " thing" that occurred to her, and was not haunted by 
hints and dreams of possible poems which never shaped themselves. 
Also, that she seldom felt a chill of disappointment with what she 
had written, but hoped for the best, knew she had done what she 
could with the material given her, and went on content to another 
bit of work. In this I felt that she took indeed at once, the .lowliest 

350 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

and the highest view of her vocation. She said, in one of these 
happy talks, " I am so glad you call Him ' the Master,' it was one 
of the first things that made me love what you wrote. Is it not a 
dear name ? " We spoke of death, and she said, " I can't say I am 
exactly in a hurry to go, are you ? We need not wish to be taken 
away in the midst of our days, for there is so much delightful work 
to do here, and in any case we shall have time, eternity, for the 
glory and the rest." 

On one of her two evenings with us, she offered to have a Bible 
reading for our maid servants and a few others, which was much 
appreciated. The other evening she played and sang to us in the 
drawing-room, moving our hearts. In all she did one could see 
that the Master was always with her and her eyes unto Him, the 
"secret of His presence" had been revealed to her, and was the joy 
and rejoicing of her heart. An instance of this continual sense of 
His real presence rises before me. We had been talking of strange 
and dark events in the world, and I expressed an unguarded wonder 
that such things were permitted. Instantly I felt her hand on my 
arm, and she said quickly, " Dear, dear B. M., don't! He does not 
like to hear us say these things." It was just the hurried movement 
and word, with which one might recall to a friend the forgotten 
presence of a Third, yet done with solemnity as "touching the 

In reference to the above, I should tell you that she fagged to call 
me by my initials, which she said had been so long dear to her. 
She persuaded me at once to call her by her own sweet Christian 
name, and was so glad that I preferred Frances to Fanny. 

Observing the little pillar post which stands in our hall, and on 
which the hour of despatch is printed, with ' ' No delivery or de- 
spatch on Sunday," she said in her bright way, " Capital ! that's as 
it should be." To our coachman's wife, touching her baby's cheek 
with a gentle hand, she said softly, " Is it not nice to think that He 
took up young children in His arms, laid His hands on them, and 
blessed them ? " HE was in all her thoughts. 

Her words when we parted lingered in my heart : "Oh, is it not 
sweet of the Master to give us such days as these ? It is not merely 
' all our needy but delicious extra things too, such treats as this has 
been, He planned it all for us." 


To us both, this had seemed the beginning of a long friendship. 
We spoke of future visits in the years to come, and of publishing 
songs together, and of other plans. But her time was at hand. 
Our brief friendship held only that one parting, which was to lead 
to no earthly meeting. One birthday (her's), one exchange of 
Christmas greetings, a few of her bright loving letters, and she was 
gone, gone to the land that is gathering to itself, day by day, our 
best and loveliest. 

Two days after her birthday she wrote : " How kind of you, darling 
friend, to recollect my day, and send me such a charming book.* I 
do like it so much. I want a long chat with you most sorely, but 
can't make time just now without confirming a growling headache. 
I have just been relieving my mind by writing a little poem ' The 
Key Found. 'f I have been wishing for a long time to have a very 
direct shot at this dreary, misty, semi-unbelief, that some people 
pride themselves on. Oh, if they would but ' come and see ' our 
Lord Jesus ! Your ever loving Frances." 

Her last letter, written so shortly before her death, is also before 
me now. " Dearest B. M. Thanks many for your dear note. . . 
I have no respite, I must make a little lull in life. Whilst most 
thankful for success, I am almost alarmedly wondering whereunto 
this work will grow. Yet oh, how one wants Him to make the 
very most of all we have and are. Remember me warmly to Mr. 

M . I am going to send you * Kept ' as soon as published. 

Your loving friend, F. R. H." 

Before I had time to reply to this letter, she was gone to Him 
whom her soul so fervently loved. I was struck by an expression 
you used in your first note to me, that " surely she must enjoy 
heaven more than most. " I know exactly what you mean, and I 
find it singularly easy to realize her there, to picture her bright 
spirit at home in the Father's house, and to imagine the sacred 
ecstasy with which she serves Him day and night in the temple. Is 
it not sweet also, and comforting, to think of her tender greeting by 

* "The Romance of Astronomy." By Professor Kalley Miller, M.A., 
F.R.A.S. Macmillan and Co. 
f See "Under His Shadow," page 186. 


and by ; of the joyful grace with which she will welcome her dear 
ones to share the blessed rest ? And it is an inspiring thought that 
even such as she, gifted with noble imaginations, and fervent hearts, 
and unutterable longing after God, have found the place prepared 
for them, and, above all, the open vision of the King Himself 
transcends without measure their most glorious hope. 

With true sympathy in your grief and in your gratitude, 
Believe me, Dear Madam, 

Affectionately yours, 

B. M. 


" I have no respite, I must make a little lull in life." 

(Last letter, received May i6M, 1879.) 

SHE stood in the glorious shadow 

Of the Father's house of love, 
But she saw not the shining threshold 

Where the Angel -Watchmen move ; 
She heard not their garments faintly stir 
As they opened the golden gates for her. 

She had toiled in the blessed Vineyard, 

And as she toiled she sang, 
Till far through the sunny distance 

That sweetest music rang ; 
And her fellow- workers, far and near, 
Gave thanks to God for her words of cheer. 

We heard her sing in the dawning, 
When the mists hung low and chill j 

In the heavy heat of the noontide 
Her clear voice cheered us still ; 

And when evening shadows were closing round, 

We folded our hands to that tender sound. 


And those who were watching at midnight, 

Watching in pain or fear, 
Heard oft in that sorrowful stillness 

One sweet voice ringing clear, 
For God her Maker, her God and King, 
Had given her songs in the night to sing. 

And the souls that were passing in silence 

To the River dreary and dim, 
Heard, down by its desolate margin, 

A sweet voice sing of Him, 
Who will welcome His children "one by one" 
To the smiling city beyond the sun. 

Far off on the desert mountains 

To wandering souls it came, 
That sound of a tender message, 

That pleading in Christ's dear name"; 
It followed the sorrowful path they trod, 
Till the wandering spirits were turned to God. 

And she sang to the little children, 

Of the children's God and King ; 
When heart and voice were weary 

She sang, unfaltering ; 
And her fervent spirit leapt to see 
The little ones gather, sweet Lord, to Thee. 

But at length she longed for a "respite," 

To gather in silence, alone, 
New strength for her mighty harvest, 

For the great work yet to be done ; 
She prayed for a "lull" in the labour of life, 
A breathing space in the glorious strife, 

For only a little shadow 

From the red sun's fiery glow, 
One hour's brief rest by the fountains 

Where the waters of comfort flow, 
Where the flowers are blowing, so pale and sweet, 
In the tender gloom by the Master's feet. 

A A 


Yet, could she have rested ever 

Where the cool soft shadows lie, 
Whilst weary and faint in the noontide 

One soul went wandering by? 
Nay ; one sad step on the dreary road 
Would have troubled her heart as it leant on God .- 

So willing to toil and travel, 

To suffer and watch for all, 
So near in heart to the Master, 

So eager to follow His call, 
She spent her soul in the service sweet, 
And only in Death could rest at His feet 

So this is the needed respite,, 

Her shadow from noonday sun 
Falls dark, from the wing of the Angel, 

Who comes when our work is done, 
To bring no "lull" in the hurry of life, 
But the Conqueror's Rest after toil and strife. 

And now, in the King's own Palace, 

She sings to her harp of gold, 
With the seal of God on her forehead, 

In her spirit His peace untold, 
Where never a sorrowful step nor cry 
Shall break on the lull of Eternity. 

B. M. 

(Lines by the late Miss JULIA KIRCHHOFFER, and 
explanatory Letter, to F. R. H. Seepage 197.) 

ASK her to come and sing to me, 

For day by day I long, 
With a craving never known before, 

For the magic of a song 
'Twere like a sweet, stray wanderer 

From heaven's choral throng. 


" You hardly ever spoke to her, 

So little of her know ! " 
But read her verses once : 

"Sing to them sweet and low, 
And the pain-dimmed eye will brighten, 

As the soothing verses flow." 

You see she feels the gift of song 

A holy, high bequest, 
Then how could she refuse to grant 

A poor sick child's request ! 
Methinks 't would soothe this constant pain, 

And lull me into rest. 

I want "The old, old story,'"' 

How Jesus set us free ; 
Or the riven " Rock of Ages," 

Or else " Abide with Me "; 
Or what we used to sing at night, 

"Nearer, my God, to Thee." 

Then tell her how I 'm lying here, 

In weariness and pain, 
And how I long to feel the charm 

Of music's voice again ! 
I know she '11 come and sing for me 

Some old familiar strain. 

Nov., 1870. 

"The time these verses refer to was before my confirmation. 
I was very ill, and no one thought I could get through such an 
exertion. I used to lie all day long, feeling pretty wretched. Then 
came a passionate longing for music, which no one here could 
gratify. You were the only person I knew of, but none of us had 
ever spoken to you. . . . That is the story of these verses ; 
perhaps it may encourage you sometimes in the ministry of song. 
It would be hard to tell all that your book has been for me. . . . 
When in the holidays at home I was in great pain and suffering, 
my sister used to sit on the bed, and read out your poems to soothe 


Letter of DR. ALEXANDER, Bishop of Dcrry. 

THE Committee of preparation for the Church Congress 
at Swansea had invited my dear sister to write a paper 
on hymnology. At their meeting in October, 1879, 
touching allusion was made to the beauty of her hymns 
and her lamented removal from the church below. 
Dr. Alexander, Bishop of Deny, wrote to me : 

"I am to speak briefly at the Swansea Congress upon the use 
and abuse of hymnology. The exquisitely pathetic hymns of your 
sister, F. R. H., the subtle and loving music of their versification, I 
shall esteem it a privilege and a duty to mention to my auditors. 
The beautiful circumstance of her dying song will afford me the 
most affecting and most touching of illustrations. I shall certainly 
quote from her hymns. Whether fifteen minutes will give me time 
to read a whole hymn, I veiy much doubt ; but I wish to quote 
some of her noble Advent hymn : * Thou art coming, O my 


1334, CHESTNUT ST., ruiLADELrniA, July 15, 1879. 

I feel a delicacy in intruding upon the sacredness of your grief 
at this time ; and yet I cannot forbear sending a few words of 
sympathy to the sister of F. R. II. In thinking of her here, she was 
not a far off writer to us, but a woman of the highest type, and a 
friend whom we had learned to love. Every word she wrote me 
came as from a dear friend, and I had hoped some day to see her 
face to face ; I hope so still, but in a far more glorious meeting. 
We have always appreciated her writing for our little magazine, in 
the midst of her many cares and of her physical weakness and pain ; 


and we know that it has done a work for the Master here which He 
will own and bless ; how much good we cannot know until the 
\iereafter. I have part of her " Marching Orders " still to publish, 
and feel that they are a sacred legacy to the readers of our magazine, 
and pray that their sweet, forcible, scriptural words may go to the 
hearts of the thousands they will reach. How many, many words 
of your dear one will go on and on, in their mission of love, while 
there are mortals to need their stimulus and comfort ! She is well 
known and loved by a large circle of friends in America, whom she 
has helped by her writings and by the knowledge of her devoted 
life. How blessed is her rest, and how truly do her works follow 
her ! In reading of her last triumphant moments, one longs for 
the time for meeting on the other shore, and of leaving for ever this 
sin-stained, tempest-tossed world. While we rejoice with her over 
the victory won, the dear ones left must bear the pain, and still press 
on in the conflict of life. This is such a hard part of life ; but oh, 
the Master's strength and love are sufficient for even this, and how 
tenderly does He ever lead us through the deep waters. May He 
place round about you His everlasting arms in this your time of 
sorrow ! 

Yours in true sympathy, and in the love and service of the one 


Editor " Woman's Work for Woman." 

[From " FAITH AND WORKS " Magazine.] 


WHAT a flood of sorrow swept over many hearts in America, when 
the news flashed over the wires that Frances Ridley Havergal was 
dead ! We had so long loved the sweet outgushings of her poetic 
nature ; always ringing to the one beloved theme a Saviour's love. 
And now the voice is hushed, the lyre unstrung, ere it had lost any 
of its early force j taken from her family and from the world in 


the prime of her life, just when she seemed about to gather fresh 
strength in rest from her labours of love ; known to many in this 
western world only by the sweet interchanges of correspondence, and 
the writings so highly valued, she leaves a void not soon to be filled. 
And yet who can read the accounts of her last illness, and its 
triumphant close, without echoing her own words, " So glorious to 
go home." 

Her little books, " My King," " Royal Commandments and 
Royal Bounty," with "Daily Thoughts on Coming to Christ," 
are the constant companions of a very large number of Christians 
here, whilst "Little Pillows" and "Morning Bells" are dear to 
many a child's heart. Even on the Christmas and birthday cards 
the ever loved "F. R. H." is always eagerly sought, as sure to be 
appended to the sweetest sentiments. It has long been the writer's 
privilege to number Miss Havergal amongst her friends ; during a 
period of six years, the hope had been growing in both our hearts, 
that we might meet ; but God has ordered it otherwise. To the one 
for whom many years of loving work seemed in store, lie has said, 
" Friend, come up higher" ; whilst to the other, nearing the allotted 
space, it is His pleasure to say, "Tarry awhile." Oh, may all 
who sorrow, " yet not as others," over this most unexpected stroke, 
so read the lessons drawn from her beautiful life that her heart's 
wish may be theirs ;] 

" Take my life, and let it be, 
Ever, only, all for Thee." 


Lints by the REV. F. JEFFERY. 

How restless seems man's outward life, 

Like billows of the sea, 
With every jarring wind at strife, 

From dangers never free ! 


Yet, safe beneath its storm-lashed face, 

See ocean's treasures lie ; 
So rests the heart secured by grace 

In deep tranquillity. 

The summer sun lit up the bay, 

No breath its bosom curled, 
When youth and pleasure launched away 

Upon their ocean world. 

Foul slimy monsters lurk within, 

Below those waters fair ; 
And so the smiling life of sin 
Hides death and fell despair. 

F. J. 
December 13, 1875. 


RIGHTLY you have read my song ! 

Who in Jesus liveth, 
'Neath life's turmoil strange and strong 

Knows the peace He giveth. 

Peace that overflows our days, 

Silently victorious ; 
Peace that blossoms into praise, 

Hidden, yet most glorious. 
December 16, 1875. 

OF course many pages might be filled with reviews and 
eulogies from English and American sources ; far more 
grateful to my dear sister was the record, which often 
greeted her, how God had blessed her word and work. 
Whilst it is quite unnecessary here to extract or repeat 
any of these appreciative notices (quite a hundred might 
be given from America alone), it may be interesting to 


some to read the following extracts from letters of the 
Vicarage (the poet), 1870. 

Since I looked critically at " The Ministry of Song," I have 
been surprised and delighted with the great beauty and power of a 
good proportion of the poems, and the sweetness of the residue. 
I particularly like " On the Last Leaf," " How should they Know 
Me?" and ' Making Poetry.' I have not often met with such vital 
truth illustrated by an imagination so subtle and so true as the two 
last evince. 

Nor is the metre apart from this estimate, being very charming 
and spirited. . . . "Wounded" is very charming, and so is 
"Faith and Reason." I cannot say these are the very best in the 
book, for there are equals ; but the " How should they Know Me ? " 
and " Making Poetry " are before all others. 

Extract from another letter from the same, 1870. 

I quite agree with you that "Life Crystals" is very thoughtful 
and beautiful, but I continue to like those I mentioned best of all. 

Miss Havergal, Sappho, and Mrs. Browning constitute my present 
female trio. There may be others lying pcrdues to me in foreign 
languages, but I know at present of none equal to these. 


f tnsrv 




THE following letter appeared in The Record, in July, 
1879, suggesting the "Frances Ridley Havergal Church 
Missionary Memorial Fund." 

To the Editor of The Record. 

SIR, I am but giving expression to the thoughts of others when 
I venture to suggest an "In Memoriam Thank Offering" from the 
tens of thousands of readers whose hearts have so often been 
gladdened and stimulated to labour for the Master by the "sweet 
singer, and yet strong," who is now 

"Among the choir of Paradise, 
A singer evermore." 

Many objects dear to her in life, to which these offerings could be 
devoted, might easily be named ; but perhaps the most fitting and 
appropriate, and one that will assuredly commend itself to all who 
sympathise with her in her loyal devotion to the "King's Marching 
Orders," would be a special Church Missionary Memorial Fund. 

Those who knew her best can best testify to the deep interest 
ever taken by our beloved friend in the God-commanded work of 
missions. Early associations led her to identify herself specially 
with the work of the Church Missionary Society. When only a 
child, "the golden-haired fairy of the home circle," as the youngest 
member of the family, it was her Sunday morning delight to carry 
the missionary plate round to all assembled for prayers, for the 
willingly offered pence. When six or seven years old she had her 
first missionary-box, and for years, especially at St. Nicholas', Wor- 
cester, energetically and systematically she obtained weekly and 
monthly contributions. It was one of her special treats to hear her 
father tell of his pioneering deputation visits to the far end of Cornwall 
and Devonshire, where, as early as 1822-24, he was the very first to 
preach and speak for the Church Missionary Society. In 1850 she 
writes : "Our Church Missionary Association has increased to over 


^"40. For myself, I have nearly thirty subscribers, half quarterly and 
half monthly ; and though the sum in some cases is small, I think that 
is a pretty tolerable list. But I want to have more internal missionary 
spirit, it is more natural to me to work than to feel. I do more 
collecting than praying ! Oh, to be like Him in this as in all other 
things. I have at last hit upon a new device, and earned something 
by my brains for my pet Church Missionary Society. Some half- 
crown pocket books advertised so many copies gratis as prizes for 
the best poetical enigmas. So I wrote sixteen of all sorts, signed 
Zoide and Sabrina, and have just received six copies. I reserved 
one copy, and have sold all the rest for the Society." 

Her self denying life, pleasing others and so pleasing herself, 
found her ever "ready to give" to missionary work. And truly 
she gave that which " cost her something." In a letter from her 
sister I read the following : "Just this time last year, in July, she 
came to me with that light in her eye which always told of some 
bright thought. ' Marie ! It has come over me this morning that 
I shall send all my jewellery to the Church Missionary Society. I 
wrote lonj ago : 

"Take my silver and my gold; 
Not a mite would I withhold." 

And I really have given every shilling I could to God's service, but 
I never thought of my jewels.' I pleaded in vain the pleasure of 
leaving them to others. 'No,' she said, 'my King wants them, 
and they must go ; delightful to have anything to give Him. I 
can't go to India, but I can help to send some one.' The massive 
gold chain she had worn for four years, the gift for some literary 
toil, she took off her neck, substituting a very old one. A friend at 
once gave her a handsome price for her chain, and she brought the 
gold to me, rattling the sovereigns merrily in her hands. ' There, 
this goes at once to the Church Missionary Society, and I shall 
make it up to $o, which I long wanted to give.' Though we were 
very busy, she had all her jewellery cleaned and packed, fifty-three 
articles (even her useful gold pencils), in a beautiful casket, and 
sent up to London to the care of the Rev. H. Wright." 

It may be the offering of "jewellery " is not the sacrifice required 
from many for the King ; but some offering of a grateful heart will, 
we think, be prompted in the case of thousands who will feel it a 


high privilege thus far to be associated in spirit with one of the 
noblest and truest hearted and most loyal of His servants. 

I refrain from doing more than suggest. I must leave to others 
the details of any plan that may be adopted ; only I think it would 
be well from the first to have a definite plan. The translation and 
circulation of selected portions of her works in the mission field 
would be a distinct object of great interest to many. Doubtless the 
Rev. H. Wright would be able to give information which would 
guide action here. Palestine has been named as a special field, but 
perhaps India or South Africa might awaken more general interest. 
Some will remember her thrillingly earnest appeal for " Our Hindoo 
Sisters " : 

" Oh ! for a fiery scroll, and a trumpet of thunder might, 

To startle the silken dreams of English women at ease, 
Circled with peace and joy, and dwelling where truth and light 
Are shining fair as the stars, and free as the western breeze ! 

Oh ! for a clarion voice to reach and stir their nest 
With the story of sisters' woes, gathering day by day, 

Over the Indian homes (sepulchres rather than rest), 
Till they rouse in the strength of the Lord, and roll the stone 

Is it too great a thing? Will not one rise and go, 
Laying her joys aside, as the Master laid them down? 

Seeking His lone and lost in the veiled abodes of woe, 
Winning His Indian gems to shine in His glorious crown ! " 

It will be interesting to mention that one item of Miss Havergal's 
" List of Work for 1879 " is given thus : " To complete my set of 
' Marching Orders ' for the Church Missionary Gleaner" The last 
paper, in the June number of the Gleaner, contained the following 

"What an honour to be one of the 'few' forerunners of the 
King, the herald of a silent yet real and mighty advent of ' the very 
God of very God.' Because the harvest is great and the labourers 
few, the Lord Jesus said, ' Pray ye therefore the Lord of the 
harvest, that He would send forth labourers into His harvest.' If 
the fact remains, the command remains. And the fact does indeed 


remain, and we have no excuse in not knowing it. We know 
how few the labourers are. We cannot say, ' Behold ! we knew it 
not.' The need is recognised, and the Lord has put the supply 
within the reach of the voice of prayer and the hand of faith. He 
has told us what to do, and so now the responsibility rests upon us. 
Perhaps we read these pages, and we sorrow a little for the burden 
of the King of princes, and wish the accounts were more glowing. 
But we do not turn the passing emotion into obedient and faithful 
and purposeful prayer, and so our sluggard soul desireth and hath 
nothing. ' He shall not fail nor be discouraged '; but if we fail as 
His ' helpers ' in this easiest and most graciously appointed share of 
His glorious work, how shall we hope to share in our Master's 
harvest joy, and what claim shall we have to join in the great har- 
vest Hallelujah ?" 

I am, Sir, yours faithfully, 

The response to the suggestions thus made was im- 
mediate and most generous. The Rev. Prebendary 
Wright, the Hon. Secretary of the Church Missionary 
Society, at once took a deep interest in the proposal, and 
the Committee of the Society passed the following 
minute, inserted in the Church Missionary Gleaner for 
September, 1879. 


The Secretaries stated that it had been determined by the friends 
of the late Miss Frances Ridley Havergal to raise a memorial fund 
to be called "The Frances Ridley Havergal Missionary Fund," 
with the intention of handing it, when raised, to the Committee of the 
Society, to be expended in the training of Native Bible women, and 
in the translation and circulation in India, (and, should the fund 
allow, other mission fields,) of suitable and selected portions of Miss 
Havergal's books. The Committee expressed the pleasure it would 
give them to administer the Fund if entrusted to them, and their 
satisfaction that the name of Miss Frances Ridley Havergal, whose 
devoted y terest in the Society's work was so marked in her life 


time, should be permanently inscribed on the records of the Society, 
and her loving loyal spirit be thus by God's blessing perpetuated in 
its Missions. 

The Day of Days for February 1880 contained the 
following acknowledgment of contributions received 
towards the Fund. 


WE wish it were possible to convey to others the feeling produced 
in our own mind by the widespread and generous response accorded 
to the proposed Church Missionary Fund in memory of Frances 
Ridley Havergal. 

The amount received now exceeds ,1,900. But even this noble 
sum cannot be rightly estimated, unless it is borne in mind that it 
represents the distinct offerings, as nearly as we can calculate, of 
some twelve thousand contributors. Many also of the letters accom- 
panying the contributions indicate that even the smallest offerings 
"have cost "the givers "something," and are literally expressions 
of heart -gratitude to "the sweet singer," who stimulated so many 
to the consecrated life, and whose voice, happily, in her Royal 
books, still 

" Rings on with holy influence deep and strong." 

We venture to express the hope that others will yet " cast in their 
mite." It should be borne in mind that the twofold object of the 
Fund affords scope for the expenditure of almost any amount that 
could be raised. The openings for the employment of native Bible 
women in India might indeed almost engross the funds of a 
Society ; and the circulation of translated and selected portions of 
F. R. H.'s writings, in India and other mission fields, would well 
employ the amount already raised. 

As one indication only of the need of Christian literature in our 
mission fields, and the special fitness of selections from F. R. H.'s 
books for circulation, the Rev. Prebendary Wright says : ' ' The 


following extract from a letter just received from one of our 
missionaries in Ceylon shows that there need be no fear of our being 
able to put the F, R. H. Memorial Fund to good account : * I 
have begun to translate Miss Havergal's "My King" into Singh- 
alese, and ask for a grant to print and bind the same. I intend to 
translate her other works.' " 

The Christian Vernacular Education Society for India has also 
just issued a circular, stating that "for lack of Christian literature 
in the mother tongues (the sixteen native languages spoken by the 
240,000,000 of our fellow subjects in India) the work of the mission- 
ary and Zenana teacher is greatly crippled, and parents have been 
known to object to their daughters acquiring the art of reading, 
from the non-existence of a pure vernacular literature to interest and 
instruct them, which induces them to exercise their new power in 
perusing the polluting publications of the native press." 

We hope "other mission fields" (European, African, and 
American, as well as Asiatic) will also be reached by F. R. II. 's 
translated books ; but even confining ourselves to India, it is 
sufficiently clear that further offerings to the Memorial Fund may 
well and wisely be made by those who have not already contributed. 

Contributions can be sent to the Rev. CHARLES BULLOCK, Hon. 
Sec. of the Fund, 7, The Paragon, Blackheath, S.E. Cheques and 
P.O. Orders payable to C. DOUGLAS Fox, Esq., Hon. Treasurer. 
All sums received are acknowledged weekly in Hand and Heart. 

The family of Frances Ridley Havergal must express 
their gratitude for the love to their sister which these 
offerings so fully testify. They also wish to thank the 
Rev. Charles and Mrs. Bullock for their energy and 
personal labour in widely scattering appeals, and then 
answering thousands of letters. This is indeed a tribute 
of love from the friends of both our beloved father and 

From the deeply touching letters received we copy the 



I humbly write enclosing one shilling for the F. R. H. Memorial 
Fund ; it is a poor invalid's humble mite. I will, with your per- 
mission, relate the circumstances under which it is sent. I have 
been afflicted more than nine years. A friend sent me " Royal 
Commandments"; this book is indeed a joy and comfort to my soul, 
and I read my daily commandment with a pure happiness, and each 
day gain a renewal of strength from my King. The portions for the 
tenth and eighteenth days have been an especial blessing to me. 
The book is very dear to me. I most willingly deny myself some 
little necessity that I may contribute to the Fund. 


(To REV. C. BULLOCK, enclosing a post office order for 
ten shillings.) 
WOLVERHAMPTON, February 23, 1880. 

It is my privilege to be able to add my humble testimony to the 
work of that devoted servant of Christ, Miss F. R. Havergal, so 
lately called away to receive her reward, and not only so, but I am 
also glad as a railway working man to be able to send you a little 
help towards swelling the Memorial Fund of one so truly blessed. 
I have latterly obtained some of her writings, which I find to be of 
the greatest value, and I trust, with God's help and blessing, will 
be so esteemed by us as to rank next in value to the word of God 
itself. My own spiritual experiences I find so clearly marked out 
in what she has written in that beautiful book, "Kept for the 
Master's Use," that I am sure God will give great success to the 
extension of such a dissemination of precious truths, which (with 
the aid of His Spirit) not only show the erring child the besetting 
sin which keeps back the entire consecration to His service, but 
must also stand as a "lamp" to guide the feet of many a poor 
sinner grovelling amidst the darkness of this world, and lead them 
up to that light and liberty wherewith Christ doth make His 
children free. 

Yours respectfully, 


368 MEMORIALS OF F. R. tt. 

Very many letters have been received, from all parts, 
acknowledging blessings received through the books 
which it is proposed by this Fund to translate and 
circulate; and as specimens, and incentives, we may 
reprint the following. 

(Extract from a letter of the BARONESS WREWSKY, 
GolubowO) Russia, November 1879, to J. E. J.) 

Thank you for your kindness in sending those two lovely little 
books of Miss Havergal's, which reached me quite safely, and have 
come to rejoice both me and my little girl, who with her brother 
studies every morning the chapters quoted in " Morning Stars," and 
finds out the verses. 

I am just delighting in "Kept for the Master's Use," and thank 
you so much for sending it. It is so full of earnest, realizing faith 
and love in Jesus, that it quite stirs one's heart to the very depths. 

Oh for such entire consecration, for such a life of faith and close 
communion ! Oh, how I long for it, how I pray for it ! 

(From MRS. KEIGHTLEY, My nor a, Sydney, December 1879, 
to J. M. C.) 

I received " The Last Week " which you were so kind as to send 
me. Our clergyman, Mr. Taylor, was so impressed with the 
account, that he took the liberty of writing an article on it in Tht 
Australian Churchman, which I now send. I also saw a very nice 
article in The Christian Herald; and there have been several sermons 
preached on the life and death of your dear sister in various parts 
of the colony. She was indeed a shining light. There is a gentle- 
man in this district, now officiating as catechist to Mr. Taylor, a 
Mr. Frazer, who entirely ascribes his conversion, under God's bless- 
ing, to F. R. H.'s writings. 

Very handsome contributions to the Memorial Fund 
have come from this colony. 

Many similar testimonies have been received from all 


parts of the world ; and thus, though not permitted to 
carry out her lifelong wish to be a missionary, yet the 
Lord has used my dear sister's books, in far distant 
missionary stations. 

It has been suggested that it would be very desirable 
if yearly subscriptions were paid to the F. R. H. Fund, 
thus continuously to carry on the support of trained 
Bible women, who, with the living voice in the Zenanas, 
may long echo her words, as well as the translation of 
her works. 




THE death of Miss Frances Ridley Havergal, which took place 
at Caswell Bay, near Swansea, on the 3rd of June last, has been 
deeply deplored by the Christian church at large. The many 
volumes of hymns and meditations from her pen on the " things 
touching the King " are so vividly impressed on the minds of most 
of our readers that it is sometimes difficult to feel that she could 
possibly have written of anything else. Her illness was of short 
duration, and the circumstances of her early removal, almost by a 
sudden stroke, invest with a peculiar interest the following extract 
from correspondence with reference to the offer which she made of 
devoting the proceeds of the sale of her piano, the gift of her 
talented father, to the funds of the Society. 

In a letter to the Secretary, from which he is privileged to quote, 
her sister wrote : 

" It may be of use to you, in writing about the gift, to recall the 
exact circumstances. Towards the end of last year, my dear sister 
read the statement of the failing funds of the Church Pastoral- Aid 
Society, whose noble work she always admired and sympathised 
with. She expressed to me her desire and intention of sending a 
cheque for ^50, but just then the claims of some other Societies 
were so urgently laid before her that she gave to them instead. 
But the longing also to help the noble and half-paid workers in the 
Church vineyard still weighed on ner, and I remember her saying, 
How I wish I could send' off a cheque at once ! but fear I must 
wait a year.' But, as with other generous gifts, she waited not, but 
with much delight told me that she would give her much-valued 
piano, left to her by her beloved father. It originally cost no 
guineas, and as it had been so little used she would not let it go 
under the half price. It was too large for our rooms in Wales, 
hence she resolved to give it to your Society." 

Little did the Committee think, in the course of their corre- 
spondence with Miss F. R. Havergal on the subject of her offer, 
that she who had so often sung in sweetest strains of expectation of 
future and endless joy in Christ was so near the border of the land 
of promised rest. Since her death, the gift, 50, has been received. 



For Promoting the Scriptural Edttcation and Religious Instruction 
of the Irish-speaking Population, chiefly through the medium of 
their own language. 


\Qth June, 1879. 

That this Committee has learned with very deep regret of the 
death of Miss Frances Ridley Havergal, to her a blessed 
change, for her removal from the work for Christ on earth 
was to be with Christ, which is far better ; but a loss to 
the church of Christ throughout the world, and a serious 
loss to the Irish Society, for which she had been an inde- 
fatigable collector and advocate, for which she had written 
her popular little book "Bruey," and established the 
Juvenile Branch called the "Bruey" Branch, and for 
which she was about to undertake a tour of visits to its 
mission stations in Ireland, with the intention of writing 
sketches of her tour, when it pleased God to take her to 
Himself. The Committee desires to convey to her family 
the expression of deep and heartfelt sympathy ; copies of 
this resolution to be sent, in sorrowing remembrance, to 
her sister, Miss Havergal, of the Mumbles, Swansea, and 
to Giles Shaw, Esq., her brother-in-law. 

Moved by Rev. Henry Carleton, Hon. Sec. 
Seconded by Denis Crofton, Esq. 
Frederick Homan, Esq., Chairman. 


BEGAN, IN 1856. 

It was her brother-in-law's custom to drive into Dublin 
every Tuesday morning, at seven, to attend the com- 
mittees of the Hibernian Bible and the Irish Society. 


Frances often accompanied him. While Mr. Shaw was 
preparing the financial report she got into conversation 
with Mr. Robert Wyon, the accountant of the Irish 
Society. He interested her so much in its work, and gave 
her such stirring details, that she at once took her first 
collecting card. From collecting i in 1856, she had in 
March, 1879, sent in more than ^900 to this Society. 

In 1859, with her dear father's full consent, she or- 
ganized a branch society in Worcester. Its meeting was 
addressed by the Rev. Thomas Moriarty, and we give 
her own bright words at this time. 

June 6, 1859. 

OilJ Irish "go " went off tip top. I determined to leave no stone 
unturned within my power. I wrote a sketch of Mr. Moriarty's 
conversion from Romanism, and papa let me send it to the Worcester 
Journal. The room was full, and the platform too. Mr. Moriarty's 
speech was glorious, not faultless, but effective and telling. The 
hardships he has gone through are incredible, but in his beautiful 
seagirt Ventry he has now two hundred confirmants around him. 
He is still sowing and watering, and may a yet richer ingathering 
be vouchsafed to him ! That man fascinated me to the last degree. 
After the meeting he and papa were deep in " signs of the times," 
and all that style of thing, so interesting ! When Mr. Moriarty went 
away, he laid his hand on my head, and said in a way I shall never 
forget, so gently, solemnly, and holily, " God be very gracious to you, 
my child." It was like dew, as if a tangible blessing came in it. 

In connection with the progress of her Irish Society's 
work, the following particulars will be interesting. 
Frances' first collector in Worcester was a little girl 
named " Bruey." The book so called was written after 
her death. The outline of her simple story is true. One 
of her names was Bruce, hence her pet name of Bruey ; 
the sketch of her character is founded on recollections 


and incidents. Bruey's Sunday-school work, the Irish 
meeting, the Irish card, and the forty-one names, her 
illness and peaceful death, are all facts. " Bruey " has 
been translated into most lively and idiomatic French 
by Mdlle. Tabarie', changing the name to " Lilla." * 

My dear sister's collectors so increased, that she thought 
it would be well to make them a branch of the Irish 
Society's tree. Because Bruey was her first collector, 
she called it the "Bruey Branch." The first who collected 
in this branch was a lovely child, " Little Nony." Hear- 
ing of her illness some months after, Frances sent her 
this sweet little note. 


I had no idea you were suffering so much all this time. I think 
Jesus must have been carrying you in His arms all the while, 
because, you see, when anybody can't even walk they must be 
carried. And I am quite sure He must be loving you ever so much, 
I mean with a very special and tender love, because it says, ' Whom 
the Lord loveth He chasteneth.' I thank you so much for the 
violets. I have such a number of Bruey collectors that I hardly 
know how I shall manage them all. We shall have a famous Report 
next year I hope. . . . 

Very much love from your loving friend, F. R. H. 

Dear little Nony's work for Jesus, and patient suffering, 
ended on the evening of May ist, 1879, only a month 
before the founder of the Bruey Branch of the Irish 
Society was herself called away to rest from her labours. 

Possibly my sister's circular letters to her young friends 
may hereafter be printed ; but the two following epistles 
will show how thankfully she wrote to those who helped 

* " Lilla, traduit librement par Mdlle. Marie Tabarie." Paris : 
J. Bonheure, 48 Rue de Lille. 


in the work, and how she did not scruple to ask, for the 
Society, an introduction which she would never think of 
working out for herself. 

(To Emmeline Parkinson) 


I have had a good many pleasant surprises in the course of my 
Irish collecting, but I don't recollect that I ever had a pleasanter 
one than yours. You have actually beaten Bruey herself, for she 
had forty-one and you have forty-four names ! I wonder if this is 
your first attempt at working for Christ ! I think, dear Emmeline, 
the Lord Jesus knows all about it, knows that you have been trying 
to be a little worker for Him ; is not that very nice ? Now, I will 
ask Him to send you a great blessing on what you have collected, 
so that those who are taught by means of your money may not only 
learn to read of Jesus in His word, but may learn to love Him and 
tell others about Him. Perhaps you have done more for the Irish 
Society than you suppose ! because you have put an idea in my 
head. Three little girls lately wrote me a letter, something like your 
first one, having liked " Bruey " so much. I was not well enough 
to write to them at the time, but now I shall write and send them 
each a book, and make the same request I did to you, and then 
possibly they too may go to work ; and it will really be your doing 
if they also collect. 

I will tell you about one of my collectors, an invalid. When 
going to visit her one day, I prayed that the Lord Jesus would help 
me to say something to comfort her. And then He seemed to put 
into my mind that if I could only think of some work for Christ for 
her to do, it would do her more good than anything. So I put a 
collecting card in my pocket. When I got there she had been par- 
ticularly wanting to see me that day, for she had been so sad, think- 
ing she could do nothing for Jesus, and for a whole week had 
prayed He would let her do just something for Him. So I took 
out my green card, and told her I thought He had guided me to 
bring her a bit of work to do, and would she try and collect just a 
little for these poor Irish, who cannot be reached by people who can 
only speak English? So she was delighted, and took it as God's 


own answer, and has ever considered it as the work He had given 
her to do. May I send my special thanks to your mamma, both 
for allowing you to collect and for so kindly helping you. 

Your loving Friend, 

F. R. II. 

(To .) 

PYRMONT VILLA, LEAMINGTON, November 20, 1872. 

I must send a few lines of grateful thanks for your prayer for me. 
I do indeed thank you most earnestly, and may our great and beloved 
Intercessor not only present those petitions with His own sweet 
incense for me, but return the blessing sevenfold upon yourself and 
your work. . . 

I wonder if I may ask a little favour ! Will you hand the enclosed 
little notices of a new book of mine to any members of your congre- 
gation who may be on the look out for Christmas presents for children 
of ten to fourteen years of age. I particularly want to reach by it 
those of Christ's little ones who are beginning to wish to love Him 
and to work for Him. It is "a story book," but founded on fact. 
"Braey" was the real name of a dear little girl in my beloved 
father's parish at Worcester. 

Your work is immense indeed. How glad you will be of the 
"rest that remaineth" ; but it is nicer still to think that " His 
servants shall serve Him," without fatigue, or fear, or imperfection, 
or any failure. 

With very best wishes I am, dear sir, yours in Him whom having 
not seen we love, FRANCES R. HAVERGAL. 

By F. R. H.'s wish her work is still carried on, by two 
Secretaries appointed for the Bruey Branch : Miss Emily 
Titterton, The Lindens, Leamington, and Miss Mary 
Fay, Ivy Cottage, Celbridge. And a letter lately received 
from Mr. Fitzpatrick says : " I find that on the comple- 
tion of our ' Bruey ' accounts there appears an amount 
far larger than I mentioned. ... It now proves to 
be ^789 iSs. How wonderful ! We thank God." 


[From the many loving tributes to my sister's memory, the followi/ig 
are selected for reproduction here.'} 

JUNE yd, 1879. 

THE King's "all glorious" daughter 

Hath reached her home to-day ; 
She was so true and loyal 

Along her heavenward way 1 
Her faith was ever gazing 

Towards that peaceful shore, 
Her eyes were ever watching 

The Everlasting "Door." 

As on the "wheels of fire," 

The chariot bore her home, 
The King hath called her higher 

Into His royal dome. 
The trumpet tone hath sounded, 

Her willing voice replied ; 
Now, with encircled glory, 

She sitteth at His side. 

Christ's perfect "blood that cleanscth " 

Was all her entrance plea ; 
That crimson stream which floweth 

Hath set her spirit free ; 
And, "I am trusting Jesus" 

Was the keynote of her life, 
She realized His power 

Throughout her earthly strife. 


She gloried in His Presence, 

Exulted in His Love! 
Thus making earth a foretaste 

Of richer joys above ! 
She gave up human favour 

To win a soul for Him, 
Nor did her own life's shadows 

Ever her ardour dim. 

Like Him, her blessed Master, 

She ever sought to cheer 
Those weary ones in darkness, 

Along this desert drear. 
Her soul-inspiring music 

Enchained the listening throng; 
And countless hearts were lightened 

By her "Ministry of Song." 

That gentle, holy streamlet, 

Which " Under the Surface " lay, 
Hath reached the mighty ocean 

Where all is perfect day ! 
Her "Life Mosaic" glittered 

With many a sparkling gem ; 
Her King's hand now hath set it 

In His royal diadem. 

Now, sisters, ye who mourn her, 

Let this your tribute be ; 
E'en as this sainted minstrel, 

"Tell out" Christ's love so free ! 
Lay at His feet your song-gift, 

Ask Him your voice to fill 
With holy, heavenly music, 

Echo of His sweet will. 




WAS there silence over yonder? 

Did the angels cease to sing, 
As they waited on in wonder 

For the mandate of their King? 
When the royal word was given, 

By which all our hopes were crush ed ; 
Was there silence up in heaven? 

Were the Hallelujahs hushed? 

When the shining golden sceptre 

Touched the form we loved so well, 
As we wished we could have kept her, 

That she still with us might dwell; 
While the messenger descendsd, 

Calling her from us away, 
While our knees in prayer were bended, 

Pleading hard for her to stay ; 

Was there restless earnest longing 

Mid the white-robed choral band, 
As with eager footsteps thronging 

At the gate they took their stand ? 
Was there overflowing gladness, 

On each bright expectant face, 
While cur hearts were bowed with sadness, 

And we mourned her vacant place ? 

Ah ! methinks that when she entered 

Those celestial courts above, 
Every thought and eye was centred 

On the object of their love, 
That the silence then was broken 

By triumphant bursts of song, 
For the word the King had spoken, 

Which had bid her join thei r throng. 


But she passed them all unheeded, 

With a quick impatient spring ; 
As she onward, onward speeded, 

Till she stood before her King. 
How her raptured eyes would glisten j 

With a lustre, oh, so bright ! 
And she still would stand to listen, 

And to revel in that sight ! 

Then methinks she struck the chorus, 

And her rich melodious voice 
Was above their tones sonorous, 

Even sweeter and more choice. 
But to us the echo, stealing, 

Of the beautiful refrain, 
Bringeth life, and light, and healing, 

Bidding us look up again. 

Now we need not, cannot sorrow, 

We must wipe our tears away j 
And from her example borrow 

Courage in the darkest day. 
We must think of her as dwelling 

In the presence of her King, 
Where the angel-voices swelling 

Make the palace walls to ring. 

If we daily do our duty 

With her singleness of aim, 
We shall see His wondrous beauty, 

And shall magnify His name. 
We may not be highly gifted, 

We may fill a little space ; 
But the meek shall be uplifted, 

And the pure ones see His face. 




IN the forefront of God's embattled host, 

Long in her Master's service had she striven, 

So she could raise the evangelic boast 
"Splendid to be so near the Gates of Heaven." 

Amid the sacred choir who praise the King 
A harp of sweetest strings to her was given ; 

And now she felt what she was wont to sing 
"Splendid to be so near the Gates of Heaven.'* 

With self- consuming labour she had cast 
In the world's careless mass the gospel leaven, 

And now could say, her tired hand stayed at last, 
" Splendid to be so near the Gates of Heaven." 

Much had she loved Him whom she had not seen ; 

The veil which hid His face was almost riven ; 
Deep was the outburst of her joy serene 

"Splendid to be so near the Gates of Heaven." 

And now she stands before the Father's throne, 

The Lamb who once was slain, the Spirits seven j 
Ah, who can tell the bliss which thrills her tone 
"Splendid to be within the Gates of Heaven !" 

Londesborough Rectory, 


FAREWELL, fond spirit, bright before the throne, 
R adiant thy robe, transfigured like the sun ; 
A ngel of song, with harp and heart and voice, 
N ear the bright Seraphim of God rejoice ; 
Could we but see thee in thy "palace" fair, 
E ver with God, His glory now to share, 
Should we not sing our loudest chorus there? 


R est thee, dear soul, thy toils and trials o'er, 
I n Heaven is rest, for pilgrims evermore ; 
D eath takes the body out of mortal sight, 
Life lifts the spirit into Heaven's own light; 
Ever with God, thy fathers' God, to be, 
Youth without age, a bright Eternity. 

H ark ! 'tis a song, as never sung before ; 

A nthem more sweet, from yon bright happy shore ; 

V oice ever thrilling, singing now above, 

E ndless its praises of the Father's love. 

R est, aching head ! for after toil is rest ; 

G od takes thee home home to thy Father's breast, 

A 11 weary pain and travel of the road 

L ost in the light and glory of thy God ! 



" So BEAUTIFUL TO GO ! " The joys of time are waning ; 

The friends I loved so well have hastened on before ; 
And, as they passed away, my longing heart restraining, 

I 've asked when / should join them on the blessed shore ? ' 

"So BEAUTIFUL TO GO 1" for heaven is wondrous dearer, 
Since cherished human links have bound me to the Throne ! 

Oft hath the veil seemed rent, and heaven itself been nearer, 
As hope by hope hath faded, some but newly blown I 

" So BEAUTIFUL TO GO ! " to leave earth's many sorrows, 

To enter on the fulness of eternal joy ! 
But I had fondly dreamt of many bright to-morrows, 

Of harder labour still in my dear Lord's employ ! 

"So BEAUTIFUL TO GO ! " for now my spirit boundeth 
At mention of that name, that Name I love the best ! 

Behold a shoreless sea faith's plummet never soundeth, 
The name of JESUS, telling me of peace and rest 1 

382 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. 

"So BEAUTIFUL TO GO," then! I shall be with Jesus; 

Yea, with that glorious Father He made known to me ; 
"Whose love that "passeth knowledge" did from sin release us, 

And who now calls me with Him evermore to be ! 

"So BEAUTIFUL TO GO !" my life of trusting ended, 
For I have trusted Thee, Lord Jesus, day by day ; 

And I have sung to others how Thy love transcended 
Earth's noblest joys, in many a brief, but heartfelt lay ! 

"So BEAUTIFUL TO GO !" yet I had hoped to linger 
Among Thy chosen ones, to sing yet blither songs ; 

For my supremest joy hath been, a humble singer, 
To win fresh trophies to the blood- washed throngs ! 

"So BEAUTIFUL TO GO ! " yea, it will be "far better".' 
'Twas always better far to bow to Thy sweet will ; 

And I have trusted, Saviour, to the very letter, 
Thy well-tried promises, am dying, trusting still I 

And thus she passed away ; so beautiful in dying, 
As she had been in living, grand in simple faith : 

Her watchword, " Trust Him," tells the secret underlying 
Her fragrant life of beauty, her victorious death ! 

So beautiful ! And now she, being dead, yet speaketh ! 

Her songs of faith and hope shall never, never die I 
And even by her last, sweet, lifelike words she seeketh 

To prove that simple trust will our last foe defy ! 

Then be it ours to garner, as a peerless treasure, 
Those living words that such a vital courage show ; 

Ever to trust in Jesus, love Him without measure; 
Then, too, our song shall be "How BEAUTIFUL TO GO!*' 

Millbank ffouse, Nairn, Junt $th, 1879. 


JUNE zrd, 1879. 

"SUCH sad, sad news." We say j 
And the heart bids forth weak tears. 

Our foolish eyes, through their own mists dim, 

Cannot see the resting joy of Him 

Who treads with her the golden way, 

Where the star-lamps pale in the passing ray, 
And the throne uplifted nears. 

It came with such high urgency 
The summons from her King ! 
He might not be denied to stay 
Through the weary night, and faint hope of day, 
In that quiet home beside the sea ; 
Who would not charge an angel's wing 
His message to His own to bring. 

And we held our dear one lovingly : 
Ah, the strong, scarred Hand we could not see, 
When one tender touch on her wrist had lain, 
Stayed its faint pulse with ecstasy, 

And made our claspings vain. 
Was there not a whispered name? 
" Thou art Mine My wanted one ! 
In Our palace that stands by the crystal sea, 
Thy place is ready up near to Me ; 

The seas of earth ever chafe and moan, 
On her sweetest homes are her shadows thrown., 

And her night must fall the same ; 
No murmur is heard, no dimness known, 
In My land beyond the sun." 

It is sweet to prepare our home 
With Love's close -searching thought, 


All through a long, glad day, for one 
Who for us true, loving work has done : 
To arrange the seat where the warm rays come- 
Where the fairest view is caught, 
And a little picture shall meet the eye 
That the dear hand painted in years gone by ; 
To gather and place our guarded flowers, 
And set out all our choicest things, 
Chiding slow Time through the counted hours 

That will fold so close their wings ; 
Coming pausingly back, ere the step we meet, 
To make sure of all we have planned, to greet 
With voiceless welcomings. 

And the joy in our home made fair, 

Yet again to clasp a hand ; 
To meet the full light of dear, trustful eyes, 
And watch for the smile of glad surprise 

At Love's simple triumphs there; 
While the day is fading off the land, 
As the sun shuts slowly his opal gate, 

And in the tremulous, fragrant air, 
All through the hush of the hours we wait 
For the sentinel stars that come forth late, 

In their gleaming watch to stand. 

Ah ! we dare not grudge to the Master His joy 

In her gaze of speechful love 
At the unpriced treasures His LOVE has bought, 
The gathered bliss of Eternal Thought ; 
In the hidden face raised wonderingly 
At a memory of fervent words inwrought, 
An echo of her own music caught 

In the melodies above : 
As the dim earth sinks wearily 
Beneath the verge of a waveless sea, 
And so near her Saviour's breast, 
From the white-robed ones who round her press 


With offered stars her crown to gem, 
She learns the accent of the hymn 
That may not be sung by Seraphim ; 
Its rapture of bliss is sealed to them 
That is filling the endless silences 
Where unsetting glories rest. 

In this little life's chill twilight 
We shall miss her sweet words and strong; 

Yet for us the stars shall come with night, 
And through all the pitiless heat of the day 
Our hearts must wrestle, and throb, and pray, 

And trust for Evensong. 
Would we take from His heart one joyous thrill 

Who for us bore all the shame ? 
In the still, lifted light of the Sapphire Throne 
That no child of earth may behold alone, 

She hears a voice : " I will, 
Father, that Mine whom Thou gavest Me 

Be with Me where I am." 
And while the heavens are swept and bowed 

By the might of the angel-song, 
And veiling their hills as a golden cloud, 

Float by the ransomed throng ; 
She lifts to His an untroubled face, 
That caught of Heaven's light a wondrous grace, 
When It lit earth's frontier dim. 
Home, in the palace of her King ! 
Yet in her loyal heart a prayer 
That only may be spoken now, 
With the promised glory on her brew, 
That in fullest service, and sweetest hymn, 
Her love may still its tribute bring 
To His that led her there. 


C C 



WHERE are the well -remembered lays, 

Whose lingering echoes memory still 
Prolongs, with fond regretful gaze, 

Bent heavenward, toward the holy hill? 
Where the sweet voice whose tones are mute, 
The magic music of the lute? 
Whither have wended the unearthly strains, 
Too pure, too full of heaven to die on earth's dark plains? 

They die not ! As the opening flower, 

That drooped at night with closed eye, 
Awakes with morn's reviving power, 

In beauty, when the sun is nigh ; 
E'en so the notes of praise expand, 
Diviner, in the spirit land, 
Breathing immortal incense of the skies, 
Blended in sweet accord with heavenly harmonies, 

Instinct e'en here with life Divine, 

Attuned to heaven e'en here on earth, 
\Vith brighter beauty now they shine, 

What men call death is their new birth j 
In sweeter melody they rise, 
Fragrant as flowers of paradise ; 
Like the angelic choir, they cannot die, 
Preludes of triumph-songs of immortality ! 

E'en while they spring to life and light, 

Wafted on seraph-wings to heaven, 
Their beauty lingers round our night, 

Their sweetness to our earth is given ; 
Upon our darkling path below 
Their glory, streaming, gilds our woe, 
Their heaven-born tone, earth's voices in refrain, 
Mingling responsive music, echo back again. 

Sydling Vicarage, Dorset. W. J. VERNON, E.A. 



SWEET singer ! singing long 
Songs that have found an echo in the heart 
Of thousands, in life's conflict bearing part 

Sweet singer, and yet strong ! 

The strength and sweetness meet 
In thee, as day-dawn on some mountain's head, 
Or summer sunset on the ocean shed 

Strong singer, and yet sweet ! 

Wise singer ! To the sad 
Giving the comfort that thy God gave thee, 
Even to " all " thy " living," it may be 

Wise singer, making glad ! 

Glad singer ! upon eyes 

Opened to see the light that shone for thine, 
A brighter light, thy singing brought, would shine 

Glad singer, making wise ! 

God's singer ! In a land 

Of alien thought and language thou didst sing 
The songs of Zion ; now before thy King, 

Blest singer, thou dost stand ! 

Thine earthly singing o'er 

Thy singing sweet, and strong, and glad, and wise 
Thou art, among the choir of paradise, 

A singer evermore ! 

Swaffield, North Walsham, G. R. TAYLOR, M.A. 

June iQth, 1879. 




Aged 42 Years. 

FORTY-TWO stations, and then fair Canaan's rest, 
God's Israel journeyed, and in full time were blest ; 
The number of the way marks their Guide could tell, 
The route of all the wanderings He ordered well. 

(Nit miters xxxiii.) 

Forty-two portions according to God's will, 
Varied the labours, and diverse too the skill ; 
Forty-two portions, then Salem's wall was raised, 
The work was finished Jehovah God was praised. 

(Nehemiah iii.) 

Forty-two descents, and then the Christ was bom, 
Crown and sceptre His, and ours the eternal morn ; 
The hour of Advent all wisely fixed above, 
"Forty-two," counted by rich Almighty Love. 

(Mattheiu i. 17.) 

Forty-two brief years, and then the rest of heaven, 
God's pure home was hers, the welcome sweet was given > 
Journeys and buildings, all now for ever o'er, 
'Neath Love's own banner, "with Christ" for evermore. 

(Philippians i. 23.) 

Parsonage, Upper Bagot St., Dublin. 


JUNE $r(t, 1879. 

THE Church's sweetest minstrel 

Has left her ranks to-day ; 
The Master sent His summons 

To call her hence away : 
A summons to His presence, 

To see Him face to face, 
To share with Him His glory, 

In her appointed place. 

She sees Him in His beauty, 

"The King" she served so well, 
Of whose perfections daily 

She loved so much to tell. 
His least command she followed, 

His slightest wish obeyed ; 
So when His herald met her, 

She could not be afraid. 

But oh ! our sweet, sweet singer, 

Gone from our midst for aye ! 
Who now shall lead our choirs 

Since thou hast passed away? 
No hand can tune the lyre 

So tenderly as thine ; 
No other voice can reach us, 

With strains almost Divine. 

Thousands on earth have loved thee, 

Who never saw thy face ; 
In countless hearts thy teachings 

Have found abiding place. 
The truths which thou hast uttered, 

In purest melody, 
Have reached the souls of numbers. 

Though all unknown to thee. 


Through England's wide dominions 

We mourn from shore to shore, 

Is in our midst no more. 
That name so dear, so precious, 

Loved as a " household word," 
Henceforth to us is sacred, 

For she is "with the Lord!" 

We mourn in silent sadness 

The loss we have sustained ; 
The tears still flow unbidden, 

Our hearts within are pained. 
And yet we dare not murmur, 

Nor ask why this must be, 
Since God's own hand has silenced 

That sweetest minstrelsy. 



FRUITFUL in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge 

of God. Col. i. 10. 

Rooted and built up in Him. Col. ii. 7. 
A chosen vessel unto Me, to bear My name. Acts ix. 15. 
Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace. Luke ii. 29. 
Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether by life or by 

death. Phil. i. 20. 

Everlasting joy shall be upon their head. Isa. Ii. ii. 
Satisfied with favour, and full with the blessing of the Lord. 

Deiit. xxxiii. 23. 

Rise up, My love, My fair one, and come away! Cant. ii. 10. 

If ye loved Me, ye would rejoice. John xiv. 28. 

Delight thyself also in the Lord. Ps. xxxvii. 4. 

Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us. Ps. xc. 17. 

Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord ! Matt. xxv. 21. 

Ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord. i Ct>r.\v.$S. 


Having the glory of God, her light was like unto a stone most 

precious. Rev. xxi. n. 
As the lily among thorns, so is My love among the daughters. 

Cant. ii. 2. 
Verily, verily, I say unto you . . . your sorrow shall be 

turned into joy. John xvi. 20. 
Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth 

alone. John xii. 24. 

Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say, rejoice. Phil. iv. 4. 
God Himself shall be with them, and be their God. Rev. xxi. 3. 
And they shall see His face, and His name shall be in their 

foreheads. Rev. xxii. 4. 
Let Me go, for the day breaketh. Gen. xxxii. 26. 

11 1 trust I shall shortly see thee, and we shall speak face 
to face." 3 John 14. 


Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London. 




MAR 94